Tales from the Playground: 1 Corinthians 13 in Action

I do not apologize for not posting all Summer. Life gets busy - so do I! But oh my goodness what a Summer this has turned out to be...Enjoy! =)

For anyone who works at day care? 1 Corinthians 13 becomes one of the most real, and seemingly most impossible passages in the Bible.  Yes, it sounds all flowery and wonderful because it’s about love this and love that, love, love, love.  The problem comes when I’m trying to put God’s Word in action, like I’m supposed to. Let me give you a few examples (not all in this post) – mere chips, if you will, off the iceberg that I experience every day at work.

Love is patient.

 For one week, a mere five days of the summer, Pandamania took day care by storm. Vacation Bible School and I used to love each other dearly. I have quite enjoyed running the music program for my church in the past, but this time my experience was quite different. One group had three children and a group leader. Jace was one of the three children. Now, I haven’t mentioned Jace before, but you know that one kid who always causes problems, never listens, and just drives people completely crazy? Jace is that kid. I was assigned to be Jace’s personal attendant. And that was it. Follow one kid around all week. Well, what the heck, I was getting paid – why not? I was in.  

I have no idea how many times I prayed for the patience to not nail that child’s feet to the floor, his arms to a door, or just lock him and leave him in the closet without food or water. Any parent with children has experienced that feeling – never would any of us (I’m not a parent, but a child care-taker, you understand what I mean) actually do that, but we all think it at some point. The last day rolls around, and I have had it. Countless times I have completely removed Jace from an activity, lesson, or movie for being loud, not listening, and running around touching things that weren’t his – typically things that belonged to that kid who is very emotional and cries a lot over very small things.

But I digress. Here is where the patience really comes in.  Jace had to go potty (I no longer say “had to go to the bathroom.” Not even to adults. It’s always ‘potty,’ now. Daycare has permanently altered my life.) He was jumping up and down, and I needed to be helping with the group, and the children’s bathroom was a five minute walk away.  So off to the “grown up” bathroom we go. Because Jace is only three, I consider it acceptable to take him into the ladies side still.  So in he goes, back into the handicap stall while I wait for him just outside.  

I should have known that he was too quiet. Silence is always a dead give away that trouble is brewing. And it was. 

“Jace, open the door.”

Silence. Then the lock ever so slowly opens and the door opens even slower. 

The floor is completely covered in pee. He said he couldn’t reach the potty. His clothes were lying all over the floor. Couldn’t reach? Couldn’t reach? Guess what, Jace, I’m pretty sure these are the same size and height as your potty at home. And I’m also pretty sure that Mommy and Daddy don’t let you take off all your clothes every time you have to take a piss. In fact I’m pretty sure no one at your house pees all over the place in the nude.

Patience is not waiting for one kid in line to get his drink at the fountain.  It isn’t waiting for a stoplight to turn green. It isn’t even waiting in the line at Wal-Mart that isn’t the express 20-items-or-less line. 

       

Here is my definition of true patience:  when you are at your breaking point and something else happens. Being able to have the self-control to keep your cool and not blow up when that happens is true patience.

Being able to keep my cool after having to kneel and mop up an ocean of pee that belongs to the child that has been the bane of my existence for a solid week, cleaning up said child and putting him back into his clothes, going home smelling of that child’s urine….

Patience defined.

Sara - Searching for Grace, Truth and Life

This is the most recent post from my friend Sara on her blog - Searching for Grace, Truth at Life.  She has a great site with very honest and challenging posts for both herself as well as for her followers. I'm adding the link to her site below. Enjoy!

Searching for Grace, Truth and Life

All my life I've never felt 'good enough.' And it's such an over used phrase. Good enough? What does that even mean? Good? I bend over backwards for people who couldn't care less about me. Good? I'm a sucker for romance. Good? I try my hardest to only be told I'm a failure. Or worthless. Good? I'm too vulnerable. Enough? I'm there for anyone but when I need a 'shoulder to cry on' they aren't anywhere to be found. Enough? Called fat to the point where starving myself seems the only option. Enough? Humiliated out of my mind to the point where cutting seemed to be the only thing to satisfy. Or to numb. Enough? By this world's standards, I will never be enough. I will never be pretty enough. I will never be thin enough. I will never be smart enough. I will never be tough enough. I will never try hard enough. I will never put up with enough. I will never be good enough. And I've had enough.

1 Peter 2:9: But you are not like that, for you are a chosen people. You are royal priests, a holy nation, God's very own possession. As a result, you can show others the goodness of God, for he called you out of darkness into his wonderful light.

Matthew 6: 30: And if God cares so wonderfully for wildflowers that are here today and thrown into the fire tomorrow, He will certainly care for you. Why do you have so little faith?

Ever since I can remember I was starving for attention from people. I would throw anything and everything I had into relationships (with friends and boyfriends). I'm a sucker for romance, and a fool for friendship. I was constantly told by previous boyfriends that I was never good enough. I was worthless. I was never going to amount to anything. And even came to such a point that one of my boyfriends pinned me down, and yelled at me in my face about all the mistakes I'd made and laughed at me while I tried to get him off. It wasn't the fact that he over powered me that hurt, it was the humiliation and that fact that he enjoyed seeing me cry that hurt the most. He was my ride home, too. But he said he loved me. So, I believed him. And I tried so desperately hard to make him accept me. For him to think I was good enough. He constantly made fun of people who cut and starved themselves. Calling them 'emo' and that they're just doing it for attention. But little did he know his 'girlfriend' that he 'loved so much' was cutting and starving herself for 'attention.' The pressure to be 'good enough' for him and his family was too much. His family even told him flat out that I wasn't good enough. I wasn't smart enough for him. I wasn't good enough in athletics. I wasn't anything special. And I believed it. And even up until this year, I still in the back of my head would think, if they saw me now would they FINALLY approve? I hadn't talked to him in three years and I would still hold that against myself. Trying to be this smart girl. Making myself believe that if I was the best doctor around, then people would finally think 'I was good enough.' Trying to letter in sports so people would think 'I was finally good enough.' And the whole time I would look myself in the mirror and be so disgusted. I could stare at myself for hours (and sometimes I did) and be so ashamed of myself for 'not being good enough.' Do you know the mental pain and scaring that can do to a person? Holding that expectation of being 'perfect' enough? Do you understand that at all? This world's constant demand for 'perfection' for being 'good enough, do you understand that it's not possible?

Breaking down my walls, or 'peeling back my layers', I had to finally try and see 'I was good enough.' I felt I wasn't 'good enough,' for God to love me. I wasn't 'good enough' for Christ to forgive me. I wasn't this, I wasn't that, I wasn't this, I wasn't that. Yeah, you're right. I wasn't. And I'm not. And I'm not ever going to be. Christ loves me for me. For my flaws. For my imperfections. For my scars, mentally and physically. For my hopes and dreams, that sometimes are maybe too far out of reach. For my passion. For my love. Christ thinks I'm enough. He thinks I'm enough to die for. He loves me more than life. And even typing those words, words I desperately and constantly need to drink in and soak up, I'm starting to cry. Cause the things other people have said to me have burned such a deep hole threw my heart that I never thought I would be able to fill it. But those words right there are enough. Enough to fill. Enough to heal. Enough.

And I'm enough. And you're enough. We're enough. Don't buy into the lie that you're not. Or are never going to be. Don't be sold short. Don't be told that you're worthless, and don't let yourself believe it. Because we're heirs to a Kingdom. (Holy cow!) You'd think that people would stop saying 'we weren't good enough' if they realized we were all princes and princesses. Isn't it about time that we actually start to believe that? Cause I've had enough of other people telling me what I am and am not.

I'm a child of a King. I'm a daughter of the Prince of Peace. I'm a warrior for the Maker of the Stars. I'm enough for Him. And really, that's all that matters.