Holding my Wounds While Talking to Dry Bones

So my posts definitely seem to get more rare as the ugly monster of job and school come out to play.

I'm back in the beast of the 'Nam... aka Dagenham, and hard at work. Life has been... full of interesting things lately...

My students haven't been too bad so far... it's only been the first week, so I'm going to wait till they get settled to really scare them. My EAL room is in progress, and will be getting new furniture next week... huzzah!!! This blog is coming before a rainy afternoon of lesson planning.

One of my new roles in school is to be the "buddy" to all the new American teachers. There are 3 right now... and they are lovely. The main difference between American schools and English ones is that English schools ease into the school year, whereas American one's tackle it. I like to look at school as a game of teacher vs student. In this game, if the teachers win, the students get a good education. If we lose, we usually have a lot of paperwork and government intervention.

In that sense, it's important, I think, that teachers work together as a team. It's been fun showing the newbie's around and giving them the skinny on everything. It has made my evenings a bit frantic, as my afternoons are usually with them and my work accompanies me home.

Because I've been so busy I've been slacking in my news reading... so I'm not currently wrapped up in current events. My brain, like many English people, turns to supper and football when I leave work. Right now Chelsea is tied with Liverpool in the Prem League.

So I've been thinking about some of the comments I've gotten in my posts recently... comments that show anger or frustration or annoyance or fear. Maybe not on the surface... but it seems like deep down somewhere we're scared... we're angry... including me. I noticed how much I complained this week, how much I said negative things... how much I expected the worst of people, not the best... and I wondered why I had this tendency.

In looking over some of the news reports of Palin, it seems people are trying to dig up dirt. Trying to find a way to make her more normal because as has been quoted "she is a shining star in the firmament of the Republican party." Perhaps I shouldn't have quoted that... but it's really close. I don't mind Palin being fantastic... I'm actually really impressed by her poise and her encouraging words. I'm impressed by her being a working mother and being supportive of her family and the way she has exposed corruption in her goverment.

I don't know if I'd be surprised either way, whether they find out for sure that the baby is her daughters or if they find out she used her power to get someone fired. I don't want to believe bad things about her, but she's HUMAN... and humans are messed up and we make mistakes.

In this whole investigation of Bristol's pregnancy, etc. I find the democrats more hypocritical than the republicans. Most of the democrats are trying to make it sound horrible when women's rights and equality and family support and choice is what they push for. The republicans, for the most part, have been confident for Palin and for Bristol. I can't decide if this is support for parties or genuine support... I don't know how supportive the republican women were of Hillary during her female hardships... but they seem supportive now.

At the same time, most of what I've seen of Obama has been really supportive of Palin. He's fiercely negated any statements of her inability to be VP. I think that takes a lot of maturity.

But getting back to my question... why is it so easy for us to see the worst in people, especially people different than us? I know a lot of people want to make sure they aren't being naive about anyone, and no one wants to be a victim, but why does that make other's bad? Why can't we hope in those different than us?

I have a student, who we'll call Al. Al is 12 this year, and last spring was diagnosed with severe ADHD. He's had a terrible time in schools. Most of his teachers hate him because he can be rude and disrespectful and he's loud and runs around the room. He loses a lot of things. He doesn't do a lot of work. He winds the other students up. I've already had complaints from 2 teachers this week about him.

What most people don't know is that his mother is bi-polar, has at least 4 other children, and she was domestically abused by Al's father, which he watched, till he was about 8. Al is fiercely protective of his mom, and has to have his cell phone on him all the time because it allows him to feel connected to her, so he can make sure she's ok. His mother tries sooo hard to raise him, and has taken him to doctors and counsellors repeatedly despite not having the money to do so. Because she has small children and can't afford child care she can't work.

So many of Al's teachers just assume he's a bad kid and punish him all the time. Al isn't a bad kid. He's damaged. He's troubled. He needs positive male rolemodels and a positive view of discipline. Even when he's on medication for ADHD he battles the be bad vs be good fight within himself. He has convinced himself that if he's funny and tough, defiant and doesn't care that he won't get hurt. That people won't try to mess with him. That he'll get respect. To him, that respect is more important than doing well in school.... sometimes.

I'm not saying there aren't days when Al annoys me, when he goes too far, when he has bad behavior. But deep down, Al is a bright kid who wants to be loved, who wants to feel safe, and wants for someone not to give up on him. He knows most of his teachers hate him and think he'll grow up to be a hooligan. He's not sure he won't himself, so he's trying to make that a positive instead of a negative image. When I see Al, I see a kid who needs love and someone to be tough on him.

There are a lot of kids like Al in the world. A lot of people who are now in prisons, even high security prisons were once little kids who just wanted to feel safe. Al's mom has a history of mental illness, but she LOVES her children fiercely and would fight for them and is trying her best. I've been on the phone with her crying her eyes out, desperate and unsure of what else to do... I encouraged her not to give up on him.

In my church there's a program called Alpha for Prisons. I think I've already written about it on here, but in short... when you treat people who are battered like they matter, like they have significance, like Jesus loves them, it makes a difference.


Ezekiel 37: 1-14

37The hand of the Lord came upon me, and he brought me out by the spirit of the Lord and set me down in the middle of a valley; it was full of bones. 2He led me all round them; there were very many lying in the valley, and they were very dry. 3He said to me, ‘Mortal, can these bones live?’ I answered, ‘O Lord God, you know.’ 4Then he said to me, ‘Prophesy to these bones, and say to them: O dry bones, hear the word of the Lord. 5Thus says the Lord God to these bones: I will cause breath to enter you, and you shall live. 6I will lay sinews on you, and will cause flesh to come upon you, and cover you with skin, and put breath in you, and you shall live; and you shall know that I am the Lord.’
7 So I prophesied as I had been commanded; and as I prophesied, suddenly there was a noise, a rattling, and the bones came together, bone to its bone. 8I looked, and there were sinews on them, and flesh had come upon them, and skin had covered them; but there was no breath in them. 9Then he said to me, ‘Prophesy to the breath, prophesy, mortal, and say to the breath: Thus says the Lord God: Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these slain, that they may live.’ 10I prophesied as he commanded me, and the breath came into them, and they lived, and stood on their feet, a vast multitude.
11 Then he said to me, ‘Mortal, these bones are the whole house of Israel. They say, “Our bones are dried up, and our hope is lost; we are cut off completely.” 12Therefore prophesy, and say to them, Thus says the Lord God: I am going to open your graves, and bring you up from your graves, O my people; and I will bring you back to the land of Israel. 13And you shall know that I am the Lord, when I open your graves, and bring you up from your graves, O my people. 14I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live, and I will place you on your own soil; then you shall know that I, the Lord, have spoken and will act, says the Lord.’

When I see this passage, I see the purpose of Christians. Like Ezekiel, we see the dry bones, and we know God can make them alive, and through saying God's words to the dry bones, God makes them alive. Could God have done it on his own? Of course... but he had Ezekiel say the words... he involved him in the process.

Donald Miller, in his book "Searching for God Knows What" talks about everyone walking around holding our wounds. He makes the analogy that we're like the children of Chernoble in our souls... each of us distorted and wounded. Each of us in pain, whether we know it or not. I think our own wounds makes it easier to identify the deformity in other's souls... and be afraid. I think instead, we need to forget our wounds for a while and try to sooth those of our wounded neighbors... which involves really loving them as much as we love ourselves. And I've said it before, that love is the only fulfilling of the law.

I'm not saying I do this, sometimes even. I guess, I'm trying to really dig into what the Bible really says and start to try to apply it to my life, to the way I see society, to the way I treat people... I'm trying to get over all my fears and my trust issues and love people, to see them the way God sees them, to love them the way He loves them. A lot of what is in there doesn't make sense when we think about the ways we live in society... it's radical counter-cultural stuff. What makes it harder is that I'm a selfish, stubborn bitch... I like feeling special and powerful, I like being on top of the game... and often the Bible requires you to lower yourself... to not be the best... but to be a servant, a slave even... to consider others better than yourself. I don't do that easily or naturally... but I'm trying to learn.

My prayer lately has been from the worship song Hosanna, "Heal my heart and make it clean, open up my eyes to the things unseen, show me how to love like you have loved me. Break my heart for what breaks yours, everything I am for your kingdom's cause, as I walk from earth into eternity."

The hardest part of this is admitting that like the murderers, the rapists, the mentally insane, the people society tells us to fear and hate... I'm also wounded and deformed in my soul... and I also walk around holding my wounds...