My Child, My ROTH IRA

I recently had my yearly meeting with my financial advisor, and he extolled the virtues of getting myself a ROTH IRA and maximizing my contributions to it each year. I don't really know what exactly a ROTH is, but I know it's good. We started one for my wife a few years ago, even though we basically could be building this retirement account on the future market prospects of VCR's and pay phones for all we know. And apparently, that was the responsible thing to do. We jumped into marriage and a mortgage and flat-screen TV ownership without having a clue either, but those also seem to be good things for adults to do that have worked out.

Anyway, it was made clear to me by my financial advisor that I simply cannot afford not to maximize my retirement contributions to a ROTH for myself. It's like losing money. If I am capable of simple math involving compound interest and conservative market speculation (which I'm not), I was assured that I could be a millionaire in my seventies. Then I could buy as many flat-screen TV's as I want. It sounded like wise advice. Then he made a statement that really stuck with me: every year I don't contribute to the ROTH is a missed opportunity. There is no way to go back and make up for not contributing to my future potential earnings.

I don't know why, but I remembered that statement a few days later when I was hanging out with my kids. I realized something. I can afford to miss some contributions to a ROTH. It's an opportunity I can live with missing. I might not become a millionaire, but I doubt that it will really matter. What I can't afford to miss contributing to is my children's future. If I thought the power of compound interest with money was impressive, it's nothing compared to the compound interest of reading and teaching and hugging my kids. Any day I don't contribute to them is an opportunity I can't get back.

The market will surely tank again, and people's retirement accounts will take a hit, my own included. There is little control I can have over that, just like at some point I'll have little control over my daughters' decisions. There may be days in the future when I feel like the account I've built up regarding their futures has taken a big dive. There are no guarantees in parenting. But I do know this - I'll never regret not getting to the end of my life and sitting on a pile of money. I'll daily regret it, though, if I come to the end and know I could have read one more book or talked about Jesus one more time, if I had only been less focused on money.

Notes: Dealing with Foolish/Frustrating People

1. Paul offers this advice in 2 Timothy 2:23-4:
"Don't have anything to do with foolish and stupid arguments, because you konw they produce quarrels. And the Lord's servant must not quarrel; instead he must be kind to everyone, able to teach, not resentful."

If you want to be a leader, or you want to be effective, you've got to keep yourself from getting caught up in silly arguments. The other individual might be completely wrong, but who cares? They're foolish. More people will listen to your message (which, for Christians, better be Christ's message) if you can keep from engaging with foolish people.

2. In the same letter to Timothy, Paul later writes this:
"At my first defense, no one came to my support, but everyone deserted me. May it not be held against them. But the Lord stood at my side and gave me strength. . . The Lord will rescue me from every evil attack and will bring me safely to his heavenly kingdom." (4:16-18)

Paul here is telling a story about being treated poorly, and in the story he is passionately focused on God, not his oppressors. They are barely in the story. The only thing he says about them is "May it not be held against them." I've told a lot of stories about a lot of hard times. I usually say more than this about those I've pereceived have wronged me. Paul's approach is probably better.

3. If you like satire, this article (Nation Down to Last Hundred Grownups) is for you. If nothing else, this will remind you that the world is full of difficult people. Hopefully you and I can work hard to continue this "dying" breed mentioned in the article.

Misreading the Character List

I realized the other day that I've probably been reading the Bible wrong for much of my life.

All reading of the Bible is good reading, but I've limited my understanding by coming to a fundamental misunderstanding of the character list. Here I am, a teacher of literature, and I've done myself a disservice by ignoring textual principles as a reader.

Here's the problem: my main goal for reading the Bible through much of my life has been to make my life better. As the Sovereign Lord of the Universe, I figured God had a lot of good stuff to say about how to live well. I looked for directions to take my life and answers to all of the immediate issues plaguing my mind. And that's where I got it all wrong.

I read this quote from the blog "Forward Progress" the other day:

"Often the Bible has been called an instruction manual for life. That's not true. . . (If it were), it's a bit like trying to piece together a model airplane using the picture on the box. . . The Bible is the means by which we might know God in Christ, not the details of our own lives. God is the main character of the Bible; not me." (my emphasis added)

And there it is, my great error. I couldn't even get the main character of the text right. I was reading, studying, analyzing, all to figure out the depths of a fairly minor character (myself). That's not what it was written for. The people who developed my truck's manual weren't hoping that I would figure out what to eat for supper tonight while reading about routine maintenance. And God's main goal in the Bible wasn't trying to teach me what career to pursue or what my summer plans should be; it was to reveal as much about Himself as possible.

I remember distinctly having a conversation with a friend in which I wished that each day I could walk to the mailbox and pick up a letter from God with the instructions for the day. No matter how crazy or sacrificial, I claimed I'd be willing to follow them. I just wanted Him to provide clear direction. I've wished that for a lot of years. But that letter never comes, nor will it. And that's the beauty. Writes Kelly: "He's forcing us to talk and listen. To even argue sometimes. But to know Him rather than just His plan."

My career path won't make or break God's plan. Whatever I choose to do, He can use. But lacking a knowledge and love of the real God might break me. In order to avoid that, I've got to remember who the Bible is about.

Eradicating Ignorance

One of my recent posts paid tribute to Scott Warren, and I begin this one with one his catchphrases. When asked what he was doing on any given day in the classroom, a common response had the words, “Just eradicating ignorance,” followed by one of his pet names (not to be repeated here) for his stubborn students. Eradicating ignorance: it’s a great goal for all educators.

This is what I try to do every day, and most days in the classroom, it feels like I’m at war. The desire amongst many high school students is great to hold on to their ignorance at any cost, and they are up for the challenge. They fight new knowledge, new skills, and new ideas. Why? Because there are consequences.

The phrase “ignorance is bliss” exists specifically because of the consequences of knowledge. And it’s these same consequences that make most adults, no matter how much they don’t want to admit it, as adamantly opposed to losing their ignorance. If what we know is true, we don’t have to change anything. Add something new or contrary to our existing knowledge, and then we might have to change our actions. Change is hard.

This makes new knowledge about God even more intimidating. If I learn more about sin, I might find out I have some behaviors, habits, or attitudes that I need to change in order to be honoring to God. Knowing that I’m called to be Christ-like, the more that I learn about Christ’s character, the more responsibility I have to improve or build those qualities in myself. And the more I learn about theology, the more I might begin to question some of my longest-held and most-cherished beliefs. Especially if those beliefs are built merely on tradition, convenience, or “the way I was raised.”

With knowledge comes the burden of responsibility. It’s easier to not know about poverty, because then you feel no responsibility to help. Life is simpler when you don’t know about others in pain, because then you don’t feel a need to care for them. It’s more convenient to create an idea of what you think God should be, because we believe what he should be is someone who loves everything we do. Ignorance is much easier: it asks nothing, requires nothing, and means nothing. It’s comfortable.

Christians are called to more than comfortable, however. Ephesians 4-6 in particular has much to say about seeking wisdom:

• You will be “alienated from the life of God” because of ignorance (4:18)
• We are called to “find out what pleases the Lord.” (5:10)
• “See then that you walk circumspectly, not as fools but as wise. . .” (5:15)
• “Therefore do not be unwise, but understand what the will of the Lord is.” (5:17)
• 6:11 - 20 encourages the Christian to put on the “full armor of God.” The list of this armor begins with “girding your waist with truth.”

Theology and studying matter. We cannot leave it up to pastors to study for us and tell us what we should know. We cannot be okay not knowing all we can about the truth provided to us by God. There are many confusing, troublesome, and intimidating topics in Christianity. To avoid these, though, is a direct insult to God and all that he has provided. In the richest country in the world filled with the most resources for learning and the most technology available in order to more conveniently access unfathomable amounts of knowledge, there is simply no excuse for ignorance.

It’s okay to be confused; it’s just not okay to stay that way. And too often we bow down to the idea of remaining “open-minded,” which is commonly an excuse for never having to learn enough to take a stand. We must seek to eradicate our own ignorance. Comfort does not await us, but the joy of knowing God does.

Battling a Mother

As all children do, mine are beginning to perfect the art of battling.

Leah has always been a battler. She's stubborn. It's tough to attribute poor motives to a 14 month old, but I'm pretty sure she could walk for a good month or two before she started but waited just to spite me. She grunts and growls and will not move an inch if you ask her to. She waits until we're sitting down to get into something she knows she's not supposed to, then she looks over at us to see if we've got the energy to stop her. If we do, she waits until were sitting once again and returns to the battle.

Elise, the three year old, has also picked up the battling pace recently. She loves battles at meal time, even with food she loves. She engaged in a "sit-in," Civil Rights Movement style, in our bathroom the other day, protesting the fact that I told her to wash her hands after using the toilet. There are days when she is just looking for a fight.

My biggest problem is that my daughters have too much of me in them.

My mother and I had epic battles. I was a battler, and I fought hard to get my way. There were few areas of my life that I didn't feel were worthy of fighting for; and looking back, and I'm pretty sure sometimes I just liked the battle itself. I don't think I was a bad kid; I just liked to argue. Verbal combat was the game, and I was a relentless participant. Somehow, someway, my mother answered the challenge.

If I ever brought home decent grades, but not great grades, we fought. I used the weak, "Well I tried, you should be happy with that and love me anyway" horse manure response. She knew I could do better and told me so.

Homework was another source of contention. She'd always ask if I had any. I'd tell her I had "optional" homework, which was code for I'd do it if I felt like it and she should leave me alone about it. But she didn't.

One semester of high school I had a study hall first period. On late nights I'd beg to stay home and sleep in until I had an actual class. Who cares if I miss study hall anyway? She'd say no. I was supposed to be there, so I should be there. I came at her every time, with the same tired reasons and logic. I tried to beat her down. Every time she said no.

One weekend night I wanted to go see my girlfriend. There was an epic snowstorm, and I was determined to go. Mom said no. I carried on for a good long time, arguing about how wrong she was. And on and on it went.

Now I look back and see how stupid I was. I know what school is like and the expectations on students. I should have been ashamed anytime I didn't bring home an A. I'm appalled at all the homework that doesn't get done by my students now, perhaps even more so by the homework that does get done through cheating and half efforts. I'm shocked by the attendance problems and the unwillingness of kids (and adults) to not be where they're supposed to be. And I'm smart enough to stay out of snowstorms.

Too many kids today have parents who have quit battling because it just gets old. They get beaten down and frustrated. I don't blame them. I'm already tired of battling my 3 year old.

But my mother never quit battling. She never got beaten down (even though I may have made her feel that way), and she didn't stop asking questions. And I'm thankful every day that she did.

Chasing the Old Bulls

Recently a familiar face came back into the school where I teach. Scott Warren, a friend who had retired last year, was back to sub for the econ teacher next door to my room. This occasion had a definite sense of nostalgia for me, because Scott used to teach across from my room, and I spent many minutes in between classes standing on the corner of the hallway with Scott and a few others. Having good people to have good fun with at your place of work is important. Having them to teach with is essential. And Scott is good people. On a lot of hard days, Scott made life in education fun. Frankly, there’s been a piece missing from the second floor at my high school this year without him.

Anyway, Scott was back recently. We knew he would be, so myself and another teacher made it officially “Scott Warren Day.” We brought in donuts and cookies. Bottom line - we had fun. All day I was reminded of how important the “old bulls” are in life.

“Old bull” is a term I became familiar with during my time at Nora Springs. While I won’t go into the story of the term’s origin, obviously it refers to someone with a great deal of experience. The term is a necessary one because those with a great deal of experience see the world and approach the world differently from “young bulls.”

Having an old bull like Scott Warren around made for a great day. The staff in my area seemed happier because he was around. Banter picked up. Full laughs replaced chuckles. There seemed to be more energy all around. And more respect. This was all because an old bull was around.

More than anything, I guess, I want to extol the virtues of age in this blog post. I’m certainly not saying anything earth-shattering by pointing out that old bulls are usually full of wisdom and are very effective at what they do. What I am getting at, though, is that I don’t think enough is being done to gain from the old bulls.

Take education, for example. It’s hard to find a lot of old bulls in education any more. Money drives just about every decision possible, so early retirement packages are thrown out to anyone who will take them. The decision is often not hard for the old bulls, because another common practice in education is disregarding the wisdom of experience to make room for whatever is new. I’d jump at the opportunity to retire early as well if I was constantly ignored as a resource and have my work mistrusted because it doesn’t conform to the newest reform buzz words of the day. Not only are classrooms being filled with inexperienced teachers, it’s rare for those without experience to be encouraged to learn from those who do have it. If the public wants to rail about the problems in education in America, we can probably start there.

I think of churches as well. There seems to be a lot done to keep newer, younger members happy and attracted to church in the name of growth. The trend for many churches away from hymns and towards trap sets and electric guitars is an example. This is only one example. When I was 18, I was ecstatic to see this. Now that I’m 31, I wonder what we’ve lost because of this shift in focus. How much are the old bulls looked to? I know that for the most part they are respected; but really, how many are used as resources for teaching, advising, mentoring, etc? And how many church members are eager to listen?

Family is another example, and it’s one that’s really hit me as I’ve thought about this topic over the past few days. I’ve always had the utmost respect and love for my grandparents. I enjoy spending time with those still living, and I cherish all the time I had with those who have passed. What I don’t think I’ve done a very good job of, however, is seeking wisdom from them. They have seen some things and lived through events I can’t even fathom. I’m 31 years old, and I can’t imagine my grandparents in any role but that of grandparent. I’ve never though much about them as a parent, as a worker, as someone who has faced and overcome obstacles I’ll never see.

Respect for grandparents and all old bulls is a great thing. It’s not complete, however, without respect for their knowledge as well. I’m committed to seeking out wisdom from those older than me. I challenge all my readers to do the same.