december 11, 2006

I got a phone call on Monday from my mom.  She told me to come home, Dennis isn’t going to make it.  I’d gotten a lot of phone calls like that over the past 15 months.  I got one while I was at U Village, where I found out that the reason my brother was experiencing so much discomfort was because of a tumor on his spine.  During the first IV leader’s meeting, I got a voice message that said the cancer was terminal.  Then, my mom called and told me that the new, aggressive chemo treatment the doctors tried had completely failed; that now, everything is about keeping Dennis comfortable.

I knew that this day was going to come.  I just didn’t know why it was coming.  He was just 28 years old, a guy who went to pharmacy school because of a promise he made to God, someone who was deeply and widely loved.  Didn’t make sense.

When I pulled into the driveway, I waited in my car to compose myself.  I had to stay calm, had to keep it together.  But when I opened the door, and saw Dennis lying unconscious, I could not keep anything together.  My knees buckled, and my head fell into my arms, and I sobbed.  My parents rushed over to me and told me to stop crying, Dennis is unconscoius but he can still hear you.  We have to stay strong near him, we can’t let him hear us cry like this.  They told me he would pass within 24 hours, and they told me about their long, painful night and morning.

I sat next to my brother for an hour, alone.  I just looked at his face, his thin hair and still body.  A lifetime of memories filled my mind.  Learning to shoot a basketball, playing tennis in the rain, eating chicken noodle soup, running around in the snow, riding bikes, and shaving for the first time.  Even though he was a math and science guy, he taught me how to organize my scattered thoughts with writing.  I said in a whisper, I love you.  I’ll miss you.  Thanks for being the best big brother ever, you taught me so much.  I’ll do my very best to take care of mom and ba ba.  It was the first time I ever said those kinds of things to him.  We’re not a lovey-dovey type of family, but I thought I would verbalize what we all felt for each other.

Dennis lived a beautiful life.  Our packed house was testament to the simple fact that he was a wonderful person.  We held hands as the chaplain read Psalm 23.  We prayed, and one-by-one, people were able to speak final words into his ear.  Dennis passed before our very eyes, at about 3:00 pm, to be with our God for the rest of eternity.  He was my big brother, and I will miss him so much.

But, I know I will see him again.

leading again

the last time i led a small group, i was a senior at the uw, my brother was still alive, i wasn’t married, and i wasn’t sure what i was gonna do with my life.

a lot has happened since then.

i think i was probably a better small group leader back then. i used to be really into it: i was ready for each gathering way in advance, actively invested in the lives of folks in my flock. i felt a deep emotional connection to it. and strangely, i felt more prepared to be a leader back then. one might think i’d feel more confident now as a leader since i’m a lil older and i’ve got some more experience under my belt, but it’s not the case.

and i think it’s because of what happened with dennis. i always said that his death wouldn’t change me, that my faith would be the same, i’d be the same. my faith was not only unshakeable, but unchangeable. it would remain constant, no matter what.

but it has changed. it’s totally different now.

i’m reminded of that every time we go through a passage in mark with the cgroup, because something always reminds me of dennis, and how much we prayed, fasted, hoped, cried. i remember how desperate we felt, and all those other feelings i don’t know how to describe.

anytime i think about god, i’m reminded of my brother and how he died. those two things are forever linked.

that’s one thing that will probably never change.

and that’s one thing i didn’t see coming.

lost causes

for our weekly meeting, all the 11th & 12th grade teachers (all 5 of us) got together to talk about a very special group of students: the juniors with more than one F. there were quite a few of these folks, and the purpose of our gathering was to figure out what we could do to help this group get back on track so they can graduate next year. this is supposed to be the beauty of having a small school: we can give struggling students individual attention. but because we have limited funds these days, our teacher to student ratio is not where it should be, so it’s still quite a big challenge.

now i really enjoy working with these teachers. they’re funny, blunt, and self-described “hard-asses” (unfortunately, that does not really describe my classroom approach, so i don’t totally fit in with that), and moreover, they get straight to the point, which make our meetings run pretty efficiently.

so as we ran through different intervention strategies, we quickly eliminated ideas that didn’t seem doable, either because they wouldn’t work or because they just weren’t realistic. then we came up with the idea of doing a fantasy draft.

for folks that aren’t familiar with fantasy sports: at the beginning of a sports season, you get together with your buddies, create a fantasy league online, and then “draft” athletes onto your team. throughout the season, your fantasy team racks up points depending on how well your players perform in reality, and whoever has the most points at the end wins the grand prize.

so for the first round of our draft, we went around and each teacher selected one student they’d focus all their attention and energy on for the next 3 weeks, with the hope that the student’s grades would improve. after 3 weeks, we’d look at progress reports and see if our plan worked. well, when it was my pick and i was officially on the clock, i picked a kid that has been a big time struggler, because we had a pretty good relationship already and i thought maybe i could help him out.

little did i know, he was already in an even more dubious student group: he was a “lost cause.” i took a peek at his transcript, and i could see why — even though he was in his 3rd year of high school, he had only passed a couple classes up to this point. everything else was an F. he just had F’s everywhere. F, F, F, F, F, F, F, F… and F. shocking to me because he was a nice kid, and usually in my mind, i expect kids with those kinds of grades to be not-so-nice. so i selected another student, and he was also a “lost cause.”

i know what my colleagues were saying. we should devote our energies to helping students who actually stand a chance to pass and graduate with teacher support. ultimately, i selected a student who fell under this category, and i’ve been working hard on helping her. and yes, it is nice, because there is the feeling that she’s on the edge and just needs a lil push to make it over.

secretly, i’m resisting this idea of the “lost cause,” because it is not a theological category, and therefore shouldn’t be something i use to categorize anyone, or anything, really. as i was leading cgroup that night, i thought that maybe part of what it means to be a christian teacher is to see each student the way god sees them, no matter how far they might be from academic success; that is, as someone who can be redeemed.

still arriving

my assumption had been that once i started working, i would find my larger purpose in life. whether i went with law school, seminary, or education, i would arrive at a clear sense of my place in the world and how i would live out my faith. but while sorting out which direction i would head in, i felt a lot of tension about how faithfully i was living out my beliefs in the interim. i scrutinized the purchases i made. i wondered about the homeless folks i passed by on the street. i’d think about how much i should be verbally sharing about jesus with my friends. i wondered if i was “doing it right.” i reasoned however that once i started working, a large chunk of my day would be devoted to something meaningful to me, and certainly at that point some of the tension would go away.

now that i’ve started teaching, i’m frustrated-but-not-shocked to say that i feel as much tension as ever. the things i ask myself are different questions now, but they don’t cause any less  anxiety. at the root of my questioning is a nagging concern that jesus is not preeminent in my life, because to be honest, i’m pretty sure he’s not. yes, a big reason i went into teaching was out of a desire to serve god, but no, i am not conscious of god in my classroom very often. usually it’s because i’m too tired, and i forget Why i’m there at school everyday. no, i don’t pray in my classroom very often. and no, i don’t do a stellar job of being jesus’ hands and feet to my students. i try to be, and there have been some magical instances, but wow, i’m amazed at how fatigue and frustration can co-opt even the very best of intentions. in some ways, that’s been a big theme so far: trying my darndest, but not quite getting there, and i’m left wondering about whether god is pleased with what he sees from me, and i’m left scratching my head over where i can find the energy to “better” submit myself to jesus’ lordship.

recently i’ve been getting back into the habit of going to my local gym. it’s a great de-stresser, but it’s also a great time to listen to some of my favorite speakers. while running on the treadmill the other day, i listened to the pastor of a little church in grand rapids, michigan talk about the beatitudes. in this talk, he talked about people living in tension, people who wonder about how much they should be spending on this, and how much they should be giving to that, or how they can really begin to empty themselves out. the typical thinking (that i’d unknowingly adopted) follows that until i get my questions settled, and until i started living right, i won’t have god’s favor on me. until i know how much to be spending, until i figure out how to pour out my life, until i’ve successfully identified how much to give away, god will keep his distance. in the meantime, i must continue to grapple with my questions and get them solved, so i can arrive as soon as possible at the kind of life god blesses.

but rob bell pointed out that, rather than god distancing himself from people trying to figure their stuff out, god blesses them while they are in that tension. that is the place where god actually draws near. the good news isn’t that god comes and saves people after they’ve figured everything out, but that god walks alongside them while things are still up in the air. god lives in the messiness.

running around on that treadmill, i really needed to hear those words.

rooted in rainier vista

carrie and i wouldn’t be home owners right now if it weren’t for my parents. they had been scheming for this day since before i was even born. it’s been their plan now for well over 25 years to someday save up enough money to put me through college and help me own my own home. and now, done and done. with a big boost from my parents, we now  own our first home in a little neighborhood called rainier vista, one of a handful of mixed-income communities in seattle.

there’s a lot we love about our house, but what makes it really special is that we live really close to a lot of folks we know. our immediate next door neighbors are friends from quest. a block over is the guy that officiated our wedding, and his wife who was our real estate agent. just up the hill from our neighborhood are some fellow recently-wed ex-IVers. around the corner is a guy i’ve known since i was in high school. and so on and so on. there are easily a dozen or so friends within a five-minute drive. of course, our morning commute is no big deal since the schools we teach at aren’t far, either. it’s no exaggeration to say that this is pretty ideal for us. neither is it an exaggeration to say we owe my parents big.

so tonight, we’re going to celebrate our new home by drinking some sparking apple cider (yes, we live on the edge) and unpacking a few more boxes. we have a ways to go before we’re really settled in, but once we are, i’m looking forward to a ton of future poker nights, football parties, lesson planning, movies, and community dinners in our home.

here’s hoping for a better week

other teachers often ask me about how my first years been going so far, and when i tell them about how exhausted i always feel, or how anxious i am in the mornings, they give me that knowing smile that only comes from someone who’s been there and done that. that always makes me feel a lil better.

this was a much more challenging week, partially because i got a lil bit sick near the end. thursday night found me prepping for the next day with a burgeoning sore throat and runny nose. i didn’t do myself any favors when i decided to run to b&n after dark to buy a copy of junot diaz’s drown to teach alongside interpreter of maladies. well, it was a good decision because it turned out that many of my students really loved the diaz text, and i think they loved it even more when i let them in on the fact that its a “college-level” text.

but it was also a bad decision because by the time 3rd period was coming to conclusion on friday, i was really not feeling particularly swell, and by the end of the day, i simply didn’t have the energy to do my job effectively. it was a terrible showing. i explained to my students the situation and they were fairly gracious about it, but they were also more than happy to take advantage of my bad day by taking the last twenty minutes of class off. i don’t think anybody was doing any work at that point, and i was too wiped to do anything about it.

health was only one reason why it was a challenging week though. as much as i prepare for each day, there are still days when i feel underprepared, and it shows. sometimes i’m disorganized, sometimes i’m scrambling before class to make sure i have readings ready, and sometimes, i go through everything i have planned with time left at the end of the period. all our classes are 100 minutes, and it is a sick, sick feeling to go through the entire agenda with twenty minutes left and nothing to do.

but beyond that kinda stuff, i can always identify a bazillion ways i could do better. i’ve made too many mistakes already, and i’ve wondered on more than one occasion if my students have learned anything of value yet from being in my class. honestly, i’m not always sure. all i know is, this week, i gotta do a lil better than last.

the unthinkable thought

with the first day of my teaching career just a couple days away, i am struck by how ill-prepared i feel to approach the task at hand. my training is, i’m told, excellent, and from one of the most reputable programs of its kind in the country. the design of the program is well thought-out — there is a heavy dose of theoretical instruction and an equally heavy dose of practical day-to-day experience in public schools. one would think that after two years of such training, i would feel reasonably confident heading into my own classroom on wednesday.

but this just isn’t the case. last week, i had the chance to meet some students who were already at school doing work in preparation of our freshman orientation. i’d seen many students over the past couple of years. but seeing the faces of students that i will soon be responsible for felt overwhelming. these are kids who need their education. what makes me think that i can offer anything to help offset a lifetime of challenges and obstacles, and help send them to the promised land of a 4-year college? there isn’t a more appropriate word to describe my emotions on that day than scared.

the unthinkable thought entered my mind: what if it turns out i’m bad at this? what if, when left without the watchful eye of a mentor teacher and faculty advisor, i just don’t have it. that magical it, the perfect combination of smarts, charm, authority, and warmth that can make the difference between an amazing (catalytic) educational experience for a kid, and just another class. what exactly does it mean when you try your best at something you feel god wants you to commit yourself to, and you’re no good? what happens then?

so, it’s with a good amount of fear and trembling that i finally begin my career in the field of education. and while i hope that when it’s all said and done, i’ll have made a significant (positive) splash in the community i serve, for now, i just hope that the kids like me, the other staff like working with me, and that i make it through each day.

honeymooning in europe

even though we got married way back in november, carrie and i just returned from our honeymoon in europe. since neither of us work in the summer, we decided to delay our 15-day adventure through london, paris, and roma until now.

the food was spectacular.

all throughout roma are these city fountains that spout out fresh, cold water. lucky for us we had one just outside our bed & breakfast.

here is carrie fulfilling her life-long dream of having afternoon tea in london. it was aiight… i guess.

mama mia in london! very good musical, even from our cheap seats.

the underground subway systems are very well done. you never wait more than a couple minutes to catch a ride to your next destination.

school of athens. seeing this painting in the vatican was one of the highlights of the trip for me — i think we must’ve gawked at it for a good 20 minutes.

viva la vida! face it — delacroix would be nothing without coldplay.

inside the colosseum.

vatican city. so much better to visit in the cool of the night. walking through st. peter’s basilica and all the other extravagant churches, i had an ongoing debate in my head: is this excessive? or just reflecting the glory of god? either way, they were quite stunning to look at.

i rode my bike to portland!

SWEET BABY!

i’m riding my bike to portland!

i don’t know how this happened, but i got suckered into doing STP - an annual event where 10,o00 people from all over the world lather on butt cream, put on spandex shorts, and hop on their bike for a 200 mile ride from seattle to portland.

it was never my intent to do anything remotely serious with cycling when i bought my first bike a few years ago — a hybrid road/mountain bike for a couple hundred bucks at target. generally speaking, i would go for maybe 10 miles per ride  (15 if it was a really nice day, or if i had a lot of soul-searching to do). i would usually ride at night when there weren’t many cyclists out on the trails (the big groups that rode during the day were too intimidating), and i would usually ride because i wanted some quiet space to process dennis’s death. it was more for my spiritual/psychological health than for anything physical.

a couple months ago, my friend started bugging me about signing up for STP. every time i saw him, he’d try to get me to sign up, telling me how fun it would be, how it’d be an adventure. initially i refused — almost entirely because i didn’t think it was possible for me. 200 miles is really far. i was certain i didn’t have it in me. but he kept pushing. then i finally gave in. i didn’t come to any new conclusions, and nothing had really changed. i just simply caved.