PearlS | The Average Pearl

Brave: Conversations in public school.

I had a short conversation with a friend following my last post—one where she said, quite honestly, that she had no idea the battles we were facing in the public school setting. She was genuinely appalled at the situation and promised to pray for those of us on the “front lines.”

I appreciate feedback! It totally gets lonely when you are trying to speak truth into a corrupt culture. It’s easier to look away and pretend it doesn’t affect us.

But it does. Think of the children in your own life, their future spouses and their children yet to be born. It’s a pretty good chance that the public school kids of today—even if you don’t have skin in the game now—will be in their world tomorrow as partners, parents, friends, co-workers, leaders. Let’s give them every advantage while we can, protecting them from evil times and allowing them to grow up without unnecessary harm. “Snatching them from the fire”—I always think of this beautiful phrase in Jude—it isn’t metaphorical. We’ve been commissioned to go into the fire (Mark 16:15).

In the meanwhile, over the semester we were dealing with our teenager’s experience in modern day health class, pushing back on things like the hyper-focus on depression and suicidal behavior, advocacy for people with extreme mental illness, recognizing and correcting transgender bias. I guess I was just innocently hoping they’d cover the basics for early drivers—work on that 30-hour safety skills unit that ends with a permit. Nope.

Several emails translated to an in-person meeting. We prayed for about a week and then calmly and gratefully took the opportunity to explain our concerns, along with a quick lesson on opposing thought reform (now that would finally be a worthy professional development course!).

The health teacher, kind as can be, was stunned, I think. We did not come with a stick to beat her over the head. We came with prayers that she would listen and be curious. We prayed that we would be salty in a way that made her thirst to know Jesus.
I talked about the spiritual side of mental illness. We talked about what real advocacy looks like. Joe spoke of our belief in God-assigned gender, and pointed out the interesting fact that kids who want to be fluid are more likely to deal with suicide ideation. Isn’t that awful? We love kids; we don’t want this anywhere near our kids. I told her that because of some biased teaching and curriculum, some of our friends refused to put their kids in the public school system.
Isn’t that sad? I said. Christians like us don’t feel like schools are neutral, but agenda-driven. Good people who support teachers are leaving. Our kids are coming home saying “I wish we could just learn something instead of being asked how we feel all the time!”

She was wide-eyed—and still, kind. I wonder if she’d expected us to hate her. We didn’t. In fact, I was struck by what a warm, wonderful person she was. I would’ve loved to talk to her more.

The administrator encouraged us to speak up at the board meetings—“There’s plenty of people on the other side, but folks like you, we need you to speak up too.”
I told him if the other side wasn’t so intimidating with their masks and signage, if I could feel safe walking back to my car in the parking lot at night, if I wasn’t home feeding and putting kids to bed, if my husband didn’t travel for work—I might.
We all got up from the table and shook hands.

It was a wonderful conversation—maybe because educators love kids, just like us, and see the freedom in letting kids remain kids. Maybe it was wonderful because we had a desire to truly listen, and they did, too.

It made me feel brave, because for once I spoke aloud the words of reason, and reason was heard.

So, what about you? Is there something you need to say—is there a place you need to go and tell the truth? Let me encourage you: be brave.

The following are three emails I have sent to our district’s school board. Please read and take what you need to form your own emails. Speak up. Encourage right thinking and right action. Your kids and mine—they matter.

January 2025

Hello Board,

I just wanted to send another little note before your meeting tonight. I have sent emails in the past asking you to please kindly reconsider and desist writing new policy that is, in fact, contrary to the Colorado State constitution’s direction to remain free of sectarian tenants and doctrines (Article 9, Section 2).

I do not write on behalf of the Colorado Republicans, nor do I wish to be associated with them or any political leaning. I am frustrated that our concerns are not being heard or validly addressed—only a weak, understated argument that this potential policy would mollify LGBTQ activists.

I write to remind you Karen Cheser (superintendent) addressed this in an email this fall, saying:

“Our goal is to maintain a neutral environment in our schools that is inclusive for all students and families. To ensure neutrality, we are removing these two symbols from employee workspaces and classrooms.”

Obviously this is not about flags; flags were just a foot in the door, a strawman argument for one side to demand unnecessary and salacious attention—which you readily give.

This side lays claim to “existential” rights that stretch beyond leveling the playing field—they are the things that aren’t even listed on Maslow’s pyramid—entitlement that has the audacity to suggest you are limiting my happiness by erecting safe boundaries and maintaining neutral learning spaces for all children.

What is worse, you say what is inappropriate and grossly sexual is good for all children, and that it creates safe spaces.

I was especially glad I was not able to be at the meeting with my young children when a creepy “polyamorous”-identifying individual discussed his own needs and safety concerns.

At the time when I am training my own children to use discernment and good judgment to make wise choices, I know my efforts to raise excellent kids will be thwarted by a school culture that demands a spotlight on sexual and gender-bending ideology.

Parents with the precious task of raising kids should not have to be in a position of fighting the school board to keep our schools child-safe, child-appropriate, child-based, and academically excellent.

Pearl

December 2024

Dear Board:
I regret not being able to attend Tuesday meetings as my husband is frequently out of town for work and I have four children to look after.
I have been—after personal meetings with school employees and even admin—encouraged by them to speak up, as it seems that a certain ideological platform threatens to drown out many parents and voices of reason—people that pay taxes and are intensely interested in public education as academic institutions.
Perhaps employees aren’t speaking up against your proposed policy for fear of potential discrimination leading to job termination?

I have been following closely the news and push for DEI policy to prevail. I want to remind you, as a constituent, that your responsibility is to “establish and maintain a system of education in the district, as prescribed by the constitution and laws of the state.”
The Colorado state constitution states that “no sectarian tenants or doctrines shall be taught in the public school” (CO const. Article 9 Section 2).
Sectarianism is represented in narrow mindedness and the unwillingness to consider other points of view.
This is the very foundation of discrimination, and as it has no place in schools, there is no room for it in the policy.

In the Supreme Court case Engle v. Vitale (1962) it was determined that school-sponsored prayer was unconstitutional as it violated the First Amendment’s Establishment Clause. As the school has not been established for religious or ideological pursuit, its buildings and classrooms and teachers ought not display these unavoidable ideological flags.

There is already propaganda pressuring students to align themselves with a gendered ideology, as seen in the classroom at the beginning of the year when teachers ask students to express their “preferred” pronouns. This is not terminology; it is ideology. Yet there is no opting out of this exercise, and students risk discrimination and social ostracization if they do not comply.

Please consider these things as you move forward with your plan to draft new policy.

Thank you,

Pearl

November 2024

Dear School Board,

I understand your board is under pressure to respond to a group of people who want to erect flags within the school district, because it represents an ideology to which they align.

Under the 9-R DEIB policy, Durango schools prioritize inclusivity for all students. This inclusivity refers to the equity in access to a standards-based education and activities. Your equity resolution says that 9-R “strives to be an equitable, inclusive educational system and community–a place where all students, staff, and family members feel valued, safe, and welcome…”
Inclusion refers to minorities and the disadvantaged as it pertains to their basic rights, and removing barriers that prevent them from learning.

Freedom from that which is unvalued, unsafe, unwelcome–this is what your goal is when you make decisions as a school board looking at inclusion.

Inclusivity, then, does not refer to one’s specific ideology or expression to be made inherent in our district as a backdrop for learning! In fact, it is the opposite of “inclusion” to erect flags that only represent the values of a certain population.

As constituents who pay taxes and parents and students finding community in our school, we want to have safe, secure, and peaceful schools. Your duty is to ensure school is a neutral, safe ground where all may enter and all may learn, even students whose values are not aligned with flag-represented agendas.

DHS clubs and extracurricular activities of all kinds occur during lunch hour or before/after school, where they do not interrupt or interfere with standard learning hours. I suggest this is where and when flags and meetings ought to be displayed and held.

We want our kids to be safe in school. We want them to learn and be successful. Let’s not get distracted.

Pearl

In Love and Rage: the rottenness of current culture

I am sorry I didn’t write more in 2024, but of course this is the lesson you learn when your kids get bigger…Things do not get easier, they just get more complicated.
The tired feeling you have after a day of feeding/cleaning/chasing/persuading/coddling/disciplining/teaching little kids morphs into an equally tired feeling of raising bigger kids in a bigger world with bigger problems.

If we ran into trouble (hunger, belligerence, nap-related or stranger danger) at the park or library or store, we could just leave, one screaming baby or toddler tucked under an arm and the rest of the solemn gaggle hustled along holding hands.
But now—and with the maturity of our kids—most of the problems are outside our control, yet affecting us such that we can’t just walk away.
They are growing, and as good growing goes, the kids have to observe that when there is an issue, we stand our ground and handle it.

And so most of my writing has been emails and such, sometimes directed toward a school board that values policy over people, yet doesn’t see it that way. Instead of looking at the root, where concern lies, they look at the fruit and think if we just champion the rotting apples, the tree will get better.

I’ve drafted letters that, I hope, are simple and understandable and not too me-and-my-kids-centric, letters that raise questions—the type of questions that, if one is being honest, open up a new way of thinking. The way that folks will be persuaded by “science” and that which is logical: this is how am attempting to appeal to the situation.
And this gets tricky when you’re limited to one page, or in school board meetings, three minutes.

Honestly, I hate politics. I hate watching the recent confirmation hearing clips of Trump’s cabinet. I hate the vitriol, the intense, palpable defiance of both sides and their unwillingness to drop their pride and egos. Both have erred; neither is sorry. There will be no peaceable transition, just a sticking out of the tongue and nanny nanny boo boo, “sucks to be you, losers,” smirks plastered on their faces, just like the people of four years ago, and the people four years before that.

In my own small community, I want to be a bridge—those were the exact words I used in a meeting with school officials. If science and open-mindedness are so valued, then let’s look at numbers!

And shouldn’t school be the place where academics are valued?
And isn’t school the safe, instituted, big government-funded place to hash it out?
And doesn’t our school district strive to “be the best public school in Colorado”?

But the school board just wants to let the shiny, rotten apples hang on the tree, for freedom’s sake, they say. First amendment rights, they say. Now the rights of some people are more important than others—this is their silent consensus, in an ironic, Orwellian twist, but they don’t see it this way. They honestly think the rotten apples are beautiful and marginalized—they don’t know how rotten they are.

And this is the problem with school boards and politicians with sacred cows that cannot be touched. They peer down into the tiny voices of reason, the three minute public comment spiel or one-page email, and they promptly (and especially) ignore any alarms that the tree is dying, or that the shiny fruit is full of worms.

It doesn’t matter if wisdom is found in quiet learned voices, older generations, or those well-studied, qualified, stable, wholesome community members. History is no longer our teacher. Those in charge in our culture win and succeed by plowing ahead and damning all fences. Fences that, as Chesterton said,

The more modern type of reformer goes gaily up to it and says, “I don’t see the use of this; let us clear it away.” To which the more intelligent type of reformer will do well to answer: “If you don’t see the use of it, I certainly won’t let you clear it away. Go away and think. Then, when you can come back and tell me that you do see the use of it, I may allow you to destroy it.

A modern leader’s sacred cow is destroying fences in favor of laying new highways.
Our local school district is following in the footsteps of Denver Public Schools, which has a LGBTQ agenda and a team that sends out emails signed, in love and rage—four words that, put together, seem strikingly out of place coming from an academic institution.

After receiving an email from a concerned parent (not me) at the beginning of the year regarding various flags posted around the high school as propaganda, our smart superintendent issued a lengthy email that vowed to remove the problem flags:

We are addressing a formal complaint from a school parent about two specific political symbols displayed by staff: Black Lives Matter posters and Pride Progress flags. (These were determined to be political expressions by our legal counsel based on a set of factors such as case law, the original intent of the symbols, and their primary use.)

Our goal is to maintain a neutral environment in our schools that is inclusive for all students and families. To ensure neutrality, we are removing these two symbols from employee workspaces and classrooms.

I was new to the high school at the time—so I sent a quick thank you to the board and superintendent for nipping this in the bud. Back to academics, thank you very much!

But a can of worms was opened; the same worms from those shiny apples came wriggling out into the sun.
A student walk-out was staged. A handful of teachers claimed that, by removing flags, they removed a safe space for troubled kids. Board meetings were had; public comment was accepted.
A large turnout with many flags and weirdos persuaded the board to believe the community majority wanted flags left in schools.

One commenter, a young fellow, announced he was “polyamorous” and that he really needed places to be himself. He assured the board with a sly smile that “polyamorous” didn’t mean he wanted to necessarily have sex with everyone.

I couldn’t believe my ears, couldn’t believe this trash was even being allowed in a public session, let alone in a facility built for the purpose of safely educating children. Rotten apples!

Another public commenter, voice shaking with anger, compared this prescient, historic decision of allowing flags in schools to Ruby Bridges and racial desegregation. “Don’t be on the wrong side of history,” she coolly warned from behind her mask.
(There’s nothing like amplifying your own hurt by associating it with the hurt of something totally unrelated. For what it is worth, our district is less than 1% Black—a far more representative flag than BLM would be something Native American or Hispanic, as these populations make up a quarter of our students. Haven’t we determined by now that BLM and PP flags are ideological in nature, just as much as the AWANA flag we raise on Wednesday nights at our local Baptist church?)

“Destroy these fences!” they screamed.
The board got right to it.
They decided to draft up a policy that, as I said, is based on an established Denver Public Schools policy, and wholeheartedly supported (obviously) by groups such as the high school equity team and gay-straight alliance.
Pushing back was the loud (and admittedly egregious) Colorado Republican Party, threatening to sue the school district for violating the 14th Amendment Equal Protection Clause.

This week, public servant and vice president of the board shot back,

we’re choosing this based on our values, on our policies, on our programming…so if the public doesn’t like it, they can vote us out of office.

So much for neutrality…so much for safety and fences and reasoning and legal council. So much for education, maybe.
And so much for being the best public school in Colorado.

In love and rage. The way schools ought to be run. Keep polishing those rotten apples.

The Drift from Domesticity, The Thing. Chesterton, GK. 1929

Superintendent message regarding legal decision, Cheser, Karen. Email. 10/14/24.

Colorado GOP Threatens to Sue Durango School District over pride flag resolution. Colorado Times Recorder, 1/10/25

Vote Us Out of Office,’ Says Board Member To People Who Don’t Support LGBTQ and BLM Flags in Durango Schools. Colorado Times Recorder, 1/15/25

Fake Santa Humility.

I am digging through old posts that never made it onto the blog. Here’s one from 2019!

As you probably know and remember (or don’t, because why would you?), I cannot keep up with marking Advent or any sort of Jesse Tree devotional nonsense.

The young mom in me still has hope she might erect a Christmas tree after she’s found a clean, empty spot for it; the older mom knows of no such living area. The young mom thinks candles are terrific and cozy; the old one has scraped melted, dumped, poured, played-with wax off a bevy of wax-unfriendly fabrics. I tell myself I will just live in a constant state of wonder, rather than save it all up for the twenty-five days leading to Christmas, when presents must be wrapped, holiday concerts must be attended, and influenza, ear infections, and pink eye must be fought with all diligence. Our small, weary world rejoices in antibiotics and ice-free driveways. We marvel at the excitement of Santa visiting at the public school PTA dinner, because a miracle is born on Friday nights when different languages and cultures bond over pajama-clad kids and lukewarm baked ziti.

December begins just like every month. All the single digits fly by and I really don’t even recognize it for a new month until I’ve paid my trash bill and signed the date on the check. December sixth, yes–ok. I suppose I ought to start thinking about the school coat drive and all the Giving Tuesday emails I ignored until now. It feels excessive to pack more charity into one month when we could spread it evenly over twelve.

I guess I’m trying, without much luck, to convince the world it needs to be more realistic. Steadier in her convictions. Practical. How did Christmas come to resemble something so ultimate, so fantastical and outrageous with hardly a pinch of Jesus? Ought we not speak his name on the daily so it doesn’t come as such a surprise when December hits? I find I marvel on the daily–every time I open the Bible, as constant as a steady diet of Truth reorganizes my worldview.

For one to truly marvel, he must know his truth, that something can be born of nothing. That love can find a home with the homeless. That wrong can be made right. That the impossible isn’t wishing on a star–rather it is a Someone who was born under one. The absolute miracle isn’t that a virgin gave birth, but that God Himself came down to dwell with us.

I hesitate to sound too Ann Voskamp-ish over the wonder of Christmas–she certainly has a corner of the market, same as Harry and David have their annual, festive buyers. If Christmas is for generosity and rebirth, it’s as good a time as any to join in on the wonder. I love the poetic and lyrical, tradition and holy-days. I love the shimmery gifts stacked in perfect symmetry. But I’d also like to stick up for the less qualified, the less-experienced beholders of beauty and the amateur package-wrappers.

I thought about this as I snapped photos of Santa and the various families that came and visited him on Friday night at the school. For five dollars (paid to the PTA), they came in one at a time and chatted with a stranger, a bilingual jolly old elf, and walked away with a small framed picture of the moment. Some bigger kids had been sent with a crumpled five dollar bill and a miniscule hope that Santa would listen to their plea for the new iPhone 11 (I suppose the odds are akin to buying a lotto ticket). It was an eye opening reminder that some children find their safest, warmest, happiest Christmas experience among their school family. Even if there isn’t a new phone under the tree, it’s nice to have someone listen when you talk. Santa can feel like home in that way.

I used to be a person who rolled her eyes at the silliness of standing in line to visit Santa. As a child I only ever did it a couple of times, and never when it wasn’t free (always present: a clearly fake, overly white synthetic beard), so it seemed insincere. He never brought me anything close to what I wanted as a child, and I wasn’t about to be made a fool every year. As a grownup under the influence and wisdom of more experienced parents, I too made a vow to purge the nonsense and return to the “true meaning of Christmas”. My kids and I– “as for me and my house”–we would be intentional.

I won’t get into Santa (my oldest kid, at the age of four, announced to everyone he knew, “Santa was a man that died hundreds of years ago” even as I tried to slap my hand over his mouth to preserve their innocence), but I think we’ve all probably been bashing the wrong man. The point is, we are all people made to marvel. Christmas is a match that sparks a thrill of hope.

In no way should the professional, pinterest and popular celebrity celebrators dampen the spirit of we who are plain, non-matching in our sweatpants or stuck in the house with a bunch of sick kids, watching Frozen for the third time today. Your average Joe, the kind who barely know what boughs of holly are or how in the world to deck the halls. Blue collar saints and stocking fillers who hope a child lights up for joy over new toothpaste and socks on Christmas day. The hope of an iPhone, the reality of Pillsbury cinnamon rolls from a can.

We are celebrating humility, after all.
It is the hallmark of Christmas, and we skip right over it in our quest to “be more intentional”–a privileged person’s perspective, to be sure. Our best intentions sometimes indicate our sincere belief we have something to offer. The truth is, we don’t. This is what humility is–admitting I have nothing, absolutely nothing to offer. I’ve read somewhere that humility isn’t thinking less of oneself, but thinking of oneself less. I’m not sure I agree, because Jesus “considered equality with God something not to be grasped.” (Phi.2:6)

He thought less of Himself. He thought on his Father, and he thought on us. He humbled his infinite self to the confines of time and space, to a gravity-bound world full of disease and suffering. He humbled himself to the helplessness of a newborn baby, Holiness dependent on sinners and a teenaged mother who didn’t have a clue what she was doing. He humbled himself to a life where clean water, vaccinations, and school wasn’t available, where the crippled, deaf, and blind were laid along the dirt road, waiting for someone to see their awful state and take pity. Jesus humbled himself to befriend people that betrayed Him, people who asked dumb questions and didn’t want to hear his answers. People who wanted to trap him like a wild animal to be killed. Even though He was outside of death, he humbled himself, even to death on a cross.

He was from Heaven where tears were not shed and death had no sting, yet he was humble enough to experience it for Himself, the pain and anguish that lived here below.

And I used to think I was too proud to stand in line for Santa Claus!

Maybe I could stand to be a bit more intentional–intentionally humble.

Maybe the ticket to our kids recognizing Jesus–the reason for the season–is our very own, everyday, attention to humility. The way we respect people who don’t look, dress, or behave the way we do. The way we don’t avoid hard conversations and pain and death. The way we go about in the world, yet not of it. The way we lower our expectations on how Christmas ought to be celebrated. The way we acknowledge this whole world is walking in darkness, that Jesus also put up with people who acted ugly and unfair, and Heaven is on the horizon.

It’s okay to put up stockings and go hog wild at the cookie exchange. It’s okay to sit on Santa’s lap, put up a fresh cut tree and hang paper-plate, macaroni ornaments. It’s okay to switch up traditions and make the elf on the shelf disappear. It’s okay to be sad and disappointed and cry–Jesus, too, was a man of sorrow. It’s okay to see humanity for what it is, to be thankful God sent His baby boy to the manger, to the cross, to celebrate Emmanuel, God with skin, just like us.

Teaching Bible to kids: Part 1

I love teaching kids the Bible.
Beth and I are talking more about it on the podcast this week, but I wanted to have a series of posts up for reference in case there are readers out there struggling with a Sunday school assignment, leading a youth or home group, wondering how to begin Bible learning with their toddler, or parents contemplating a family devotional.

Recently I was teaching kids about Jesus—Jesus, who knew the inside of people—he knew their deepest desires to be whole and healthy (Matthew 9, story of the woman with the bleeding disorder), he knew their thoughts and intentions, good or bad (Matthew 9, story of the paralytic man) and he knew their natural inclination towards sin—self and flesh instead of God (John 5:42). Mind, body, spirit, soul—this is what identifies a whole person, each one of us, and Jesus knew.

There is definitely more He knows, but I was teaching 8-12 year olds and tasked with the AWANA “God is Omniscient” theme with little other than Psalm 139 for my reference. You cannot go all seminary on these guys.

But why? Why is the homiletical, hermeneutical, exegetical approach so useless in teaching kids?

Well, because they are kids.

As I was growing up, my dad often preached at our little church. Before we’d leave the house, he was always scrambling for a “visual aid”—a prop that he would bring out during lesson time. Everyone knew when Roger taught, he would have something interesting to say—and show.

There are three questions I must ask and answer when I am teaching children:

WHO am I teaching?
Kids—not adults!— and their importance in the kingdom of God cannot be overstated. They have the Top Spot.
Jesus knows the ins and outs of us. He knows the mind and the heart and purpose of a child—and they aren’t to serve as a practice board for more important sermons, nor a tabula rasa on which to chalk complicated theological equations.
A child is simple, simple in their taste, simple in their mind and heart. We’re called to drop our egos, ditch our big words and important liturgy. God wants us to reflect on the simpleness of children and to learn from them:
The disciples came to Jesus and asked, “Who, then, is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?”
He called a little child to him, and placed the child among them. And He said, “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven…Whoever takes the lowly position of this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. And whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me.” (Matt.18:1-5)

Even after Jesus explained how critical children and child-likeness are to the kingdom, the disciples rebuked people for bringing their children to Him. Jesus said, “let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” (Matthew 19:14)
He had to correct them! As a teacher of kids, often your job will be undervalued, even by some disciples. Carry on!

If the key to understanding God’s kingdom is becoming child-like: Don’t you think, if we studied children, how they learn, how we ourselves were as children—if we dropped to our knees on their level, looked into their simple ways—we might understand a little better how to teach them?
HOW am I teaching?
Remember the song, “The Wise Man Built His House Upon the Rock”? At the end of Jesus’ sermon on the mount, He told the people, “therefore, everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock.” (Matthew 7:24-25)

When we teach children, we are helping them build a life from the ground up, on a firm foundation. Everything must be built stone by stone—and when I teach, I try to remember I am there to erect scaffolding for their growing faith. This means I must be aware of what is age-appropriate; this is foundation pedagogy. Eventually their faith house that is built on the rock will continue to grow with the help of the Holy Spirit that comes as we “remain in Him” (1 John 2:27).
But for now, we teach kids foundational truths as scaffolding, remembering their curious, inquisitive nature. Little kids love stories that pique the imagination! They understand concrete statements and the idea of good winning over bad. Middle-school kids begin to ask “why” questions—a good time to introduce more abstract concepts such as propitiation and grace. Teenagers begin to self-lead and express their faith, as they “remain in Him.”

No stage of development can grow independent of a solid foundation, nor do these things grow out of order. For example,
I prefer to tell an entire Bible story when I am teaching, as kids these days are sometimes quite Bible-illiterate. It’s just good pedagogy to meet them where they are and give them the meat and bones of scripture instead of theology nuggets and catechisms, which might mean something, but for the purposes of remembering and regurgitating and chewing on mean very little.

I try to think about what they know before I teach them abstract ideas that float around without any tether to their practical life.
Sin—yes, we know and can conjure up nasty thoughts and actions of our own, so it’s easy to compare my stories to David’s, Jonah’s, Elijah’s, etc. Winning victory over sin?—that is the exciting part, the Good Ending.
Grace? Well, that’s another story, only to be understood through our own life-long idiocy, our run-ins with Law, our abject need for Someone to rescue us from our poor decisions.

When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me. (Paul, 1 Corinthians 13:11)

The Type of Scaffolding matters.

3. WHY am I teaching?
When I was a kid, the denominations I grew up in placed a strong emphasis on where you were going to go if you died this very night. Not that car accidents aren’t common or that people don’t die in them, but these were the kind of scare tactics that had me questioning my salvation on a weekly basis.

I was equally terrified of “sharing my faith”—my fear of evangelism (door knocking) itself seems possibly rooted in why I couldn’t quite be sure of my salvation and if I’d get into Heaven post-car accident.

Sometimes I wonder if this is why there are plenty of parents in my own generation who don’t feel a strong desire to teach kids the Bible. Perhaps they are unsure of what they believe, or maybe, like me, they felt scared away by the heaviness of what they would have to teach—and the souls that depended on them saving.
I have good news for you! God is not depending on you to save souls.

“A farmer went out to sow his seed. As he was scattering the seed, some fell along the path, and the birds came and ate it up. Some fell on rocky places, where it did not have much soil. It sprang up quickly, because the soil was shallow. But when the sun came up, the plants were scorched, and they withered because they had no root. Other seed fell among thorns, which grew up and choked the plants. Still other seed fell on good soil, where it produced a crop—a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown. Whoever has ears, let them hear.”
(Matthew 13:3-9)

Jesus told this parable to a crowd of people and his disciples came up afterwards to ask him what it meant. He explained to them that the different places the seed fell represented the heart condition of a person that comes into contact with the Word.

“Listen then to what the parable of the sower means: When anyone hears the message about the kingdom and does not understand it, the evil one comes and snatches away what was sown in their heart. This is the seed sown along the path. The seed falling on rocky ground refers to someone who hears the word and at once receives it with joy. But since they have no root, they last only a short time. When trouble or persecution comes because of the word, they quickly fall away. They seed falling among the thorns reverse to someone who hears the world, but the worries of this life and the deceitful news’s of wealth choke the word, making it unfruitful. But the seed falling on good soil refers to someone who hears the world and understands it.”

We, as Bible teachers, don’t save people. We just Toss out Seeds and Till Soil.

This is where we begin to lay a foundation for our kids: recognizing their Top Spot in the kingdom and the Type of Scaffolding they need, then Tilling Soil and Tossing Seeds.

I’ll talk about the practical side of teaching Sunday school to kiddos in the next post!

Hopelessness and 3 Tips for talking to Gen Z

When I last got groceries, I brought my teenager along. When I drag a 14 year old to such places I try to get something fun to let him know I’m not a grocery store bore, and maybe influence him toward perceiving the menial duties of life as joyful. I am not saying this works, but it’s worth a shot.
We bought a twelve pack of the new spiced raspberry Coke (hurry if you’re so inclined to try it; they are phasing it out).

At checkout, I cracked open the box and slid a can to the person behind the register.
“Have you tried one of these yet?” I asked. Behind their drooping mask and false eyelashes I detected a shy smile.
“No…” they mumbled.
“Well, us neither. But you try it out and I’m gonna find you next time I come shopping and see what you think about it,” I said, grinning.

They nodded in agreement, chuckled, and set the can next to their cellphone.

It’s Walmart where I interact mostly with this younger generation, of which now nearly a third identify as LGBTQ. I’m not in a life situation that affords me constant contact with this populace, but a Walmart run allows it, since Walmart offers the best pay in town to working college kids.

It breaks my heart, the complications that accompany youth and young adults today who do not think they fit in any box, as if even checking a box would add meaning to one’s life. Some are conspicuous and proud, baiting attention with shock value and impropriety. But there are silent others—they mask their discomfort and pain with clothes and makeup and a hopeful glance cast for acceptance. What grieves me so much is the obvious despair.
And the walls between us…The fallacy of genderism has deceived all of us into thinking we are too different to co-exist.

No doubt they’ve believed the lie that this is the only way forward.
Without question the potential soul conversations have been fouled and muddied by loud gender warriors. Their incongruous propaganda (Less homogeneity! But let’s all be fluid!) has led to hopelessness and self-harm—less than half of Generation Z (those born 1996-2012) report having feelings of hope about the future.

I’ve heard more than a handful of friends my age muse on how thankful they are to have not been born later when this kind of sexual revolution (if you call it that) was unfolding. Because—here’s the truth from your elders—we would have been the same fodder for the machine, questioning and longing for acceptance.

Who truly met their lifelong mate as a teenager? Who even really knew what love was back then? Who of us didn’t get into a sticky situation and then regret it? Who hasn’t said things they wished they hadn’t?
The best of our generation was busy trying out orangey tanning lotion from Bath and Body. The worst was memorizing naughty Juvenile lyrics in the locker room.

Babies, we were—along with the internet. The messages we got were tied to landlines or Seventeen magazine. The reactions we got were from our parents in their living room, not the instant emojis from a thousand quasi-“friends”.
I can’t imagine the pressure to also align myself with a lifelong queer/non-queer agenda. With my romantic prospects, I certainly would have leaned into the former, just to have an easy excuse as to why I didn’t like boys in high school, why I dressed in my brothers’ hand-me-downs, why social anxiety kept me in its grip to the point of taking anti-depressants.
Today has arrived; this is reality. Our kids see it; they are experiencing it. And we cannot ignore it, as much as we’d like to turn away and pretend it doesn’t affect us.

It does affect us, and how we approach the culture around us matters. Here are a few thoughts to chew on—the overarching themes with which we must encourage the young believers in our homes:

1. Life is about who you are becoming and the choices you make. Choose wisely.

In Mere Christianity, C.S. Lewis writes:

“People often think of Christian morality as a kind of bargain in which God says, ‘If you keep a lot of rules I’ll reward you, and if you don’t I’ll do the other thing.’ I do not think that is the best way of looking at it. I would much rather say that every time you make a choice you are turning the central part of you, the part that chooses, into something a little different from what it was before.
And taking your life as a whole, with all your innumerable choices, all your life long you are slowly turning this central thing either into a heavenly creature or into a hellish creature: either into a creature that is in harmony with God, and with other creatures, and with itself, or else into one that is in a state of war and hatred with God, and with its fellow creatures, and with itself.
To be the one kind of creature is heaven: that is, it is joy and peace and knowledge and power. To be the other means madness, horror, idiocy, rage, impotence, and eternal loneliness. Each of us at each moment is progressing to the one state or the other.”

2. Romantic love (hetero or queer) as the highest lifelong-satisfying, fulfilling goal is not just a lie, it is idolatry.

If life boiled down to happiness was a matter of romantic fulfillment, how disappointing our lives would be! And yet, judging by every other picture or post we see our friends make on socials, it would be easy to conclude that a romantic partner would solve all our problems and finally make us happy.

Idolatry in Scripture is a huge theme, if you’ve never read the Old Testament. God’s people were always falling for idols, something that promised them health, wealth, and happiness.

I heard J. Vernon McGee speaking once on Jeremiah, a prophet who lived in a culture that was steeped in idolatry. The people were going to serve their idols “under every green tree.”Asherah and Baal required sexual encounters as their temple worship. McGee commented that idolatry is never a hard thing to fall into because idols don’t require anything a person isn’t willing to give into quite easily. Sex as worship? That was right up the culture’s alley. Incredibly depraved, yes—but look around! Our nation throws a month long party in June to celebrate a free-sex lifestyle.

But we serve a holy God —the One who transforms and renews our mind to make us more like His son, Jesus. We are asked, as believers, to serve only one master, one God, to make His name great, to bring Him glory, and not make ourselves the main focus. And when we recognize life isn’t all about serving ourselves through whatever false gods we put before Him, including romantic love (because, let’s remember, hopelessness, self-harm, and suicide is sky-rocketing today—what favors is “love” doing us?), we realize our yearning to be conformed to His likeness.

And this is love: not that we loved God, but that He loved us, and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. 1 John 4:10

3. Following culture for clues to acceptance is, historically, a recipe for disaster.

In Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s sketch, After Ten Years, he muses on how the years pre-World War II led to the moral failure of Germany to address evil in their society. Bonhoeffer observes that “against stupidity we are defenseless”—then goes on to detail how, “under certain circumstances, men are made stupid” when, “under the overpowering impression of the development of power, man is robbed of his inner independence, and that he now—more or less unconsciously—renounces any attempt to find his own relation to the situation that has developed.”

Basically, Bonhoeffer concludes that a strong influence in society (and here I think it applies to the LGBTQ agenda and pervasive “progressive” politics) quickly gains control of many folks, both the intellectual and not, who simply have listened too long to rhetoric and preaching. Tired of thinking it over, much less fighting it, they give up and follow dumbly along.

“In conversation with him (the follower) it is felt that you are not dealing with the person himself, but with cliches, slogans, etc., that have gained dominance over him. He is under a spell, he is blinded, he is misused, mishandled in his own being. Thus having become a will-less instrument the stupid person becomes capable of all evil, and at the same time incapable of recognizing it as evil…In this way men can be destroyed forever.”

How familiar this is in our own generation! Tiresome rhetoric that begins to feel like the law, and not the exception to it—this dumbs down our senses into accepting that which is foul and unreasonable. The antidote, Bonhoeffer concedes, is not arguing against the mainstream thinking, because no one is really thinking at all. Rather, he writes, “‘the fear of God is the beginning of wisdom (Ps.111:10)’ says that the inner liberation of man to responsible life before God is the only real conquest of stupidity.”

Our aim is not to convince the world they are wrong; it is to tell them of the holiness of a God who loves them, which will in turn open their ears and eyes to the truth, and initiate an inward change.

What can we do now? What shall our song be to sing over a younger generation?

Model choices that mirror Jesus—choices that keep us humble, like Him. Choose to speak words that uplift, not argue. Choose to be responsible with your money, your time, your attitude.

Keep speaking of a holy God, keep speaking of your own weaknesses and tendencies to stray from Him. Not one of us is without sin, and not one of us isn’t in need of a Savior.

Love—love in a way that disarms.
Be salt, which flavors and tenderizes and punctuates the culture around us. Set examples for our own kids of friendly, kind words that open doors, not close them. Offer a Coke, a smile.

Snatch some from the fire—the ones who are silently begging to be rescued from a culture they got wrapped up in and now desperately want out of… A culture that will knock you to your knees to stick a label on your forehead.

Discernment by death.

I am so happy the kids are back in school—yes, public—yes, all of them! If you have read my blog for any amount of time, you know the flip-flopping (although I don’t think of it as that; there is plenty of examining and deliberation) we have done, and the deep feelings I have on every angle.
I love teachers. I love school. I love learning. I love kids being home. I love watching them be out of the home, doing their thing. I love being with them; I love hearing all the things they do in a day without me. I love watching kids grow up.
I don’t love screen addiction. I don’t love busy-ness for the sake of being busy.

I know readers and friends think me the biggest overthinker when it comes to making pros and cons lists on every single schooling situation, but this is undoubtedly due to our history and present circumstances.

My husband was educated by a hardcore homeschooling mother until highschool, then moved between four public schools before he graduated. To this day he harbors resentment when he recalls his teenage years and gaps in his education.
I’ve felt incredible pressure to get the schooling situation right because I also have been influenced by folks who are sheltering, rule-abiding, and (sometimes) judgmental. My growing up days involved anxiety and depression (and probably some underlying OCD), and I strived to be the perfect people pleaser—that impossible task that results in major unhappiness.

It didn’t take many words from well-meaning people to sink deep in my soul and cause major doubt.

Terrified of making the wrong decision (or at least facing the repercussions and reactions from people around us), my biggest struggle in life has always been confidence. I do not think this is common to most people. Maybe more people are self-assured, or maybe they aren’t over-thinkers like me.

These internal thoughts have been complicated by the children we have and the special needs that came with them. Each family has a distinct “recipe”—our past, our convictions, our struggles, our children, our future. I cannot nurse the old habit of people-pleasing when now I understand that the recipe never called on that particular ingredient in the first place.

But Jesus continues to transform me, thank goodness. The Bible has been my prescription, and over twenty years of marriage I have studied enough to understand my faults and the faithfulness of God. He has redeemed my flaws to a point where I do think my constant self-doubt has been replaced by complete trust and the gift of discernment, or at least solid discretion (more on that later).

So, schooling: to feel good about the situation we are in, to not feel overwhelmed, to feel like things are manageable…This is a huge deal.
Our kids have, to date, lived in two different states, four different cities, attended five different schools (the largest district having over 80,000 students, the smallest, 600, the current, 5,100), bumped up and down grades, a short stint at a magnet school, three and a half years of homeschool: one year of shared schooling, one year of online schooling, one year in a co-op. I’ve taught public school and I’ve struggled at home teaching four kids while dealing with health issues.

And the kids are fine. They really are! We just attended another back to school night and met dozens of new-to-us teachers and administration. My kids are joyful—I am, too.

If I have learned anything at all, it’s that no perfect schooling situation exists, but there is complete peace when you give the reins to Jesus. None of our years have been wasted.
How I’d like to pass on this confidence to friends who are struggling in schooling situations! But I realize how each family is unique, and each path to peace is so affected by our own personal issues.

This isn’t about school, but it is about doing what is right based on what is true, because you are confident of what is right and true. Most of us will forever battle the battles with the wrong weapons because we are heavily influenced by the world or people around us, and truth is somewhat veiled.
If you are fortunate enough to get to a low point in your life that causes an about-face, one in which your only plea is, “God, help me! Show me how to get out of this mess I’ve made,” then you have cried out for wisdom.

If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you.
James 1:5

Back to discernment, then, and how to stand strong when doubt shadows your door.

I remember a church, several years ago, wanting all of us to take a little Gary Chapman survey to tell us what our love language is, because somehow that would help us understand how to be better people, a better church. I didn’t take it, being highly suspicious of such antics, but also too busy with babies—there was no way we were staying after church for a survey in the basement, since everyone was screaming for lunch and a nap—I would’ve loved a good night’s sleep, and old Gary didn’t have a category or anyone to to help me out with that.

Mostly folks came back up the stairs and announced, “mine is physical touch!” Or “mine is quality time!” It was fun and novel for a minute, but it didn’t reach very far. Instead of growth, this “knowledge” eventually caused atrophy, shrinking their understanding to their own bubble, limiting the extension of potential love by using qualifiers. “Oh, he feels loved when you give him gifts” (true enough, but what if I’m not good with gifts?). “Her love language is words of affirmation” (what if I’m not a big talker?).
They weren’t improved in any way, except in supposedly now knowing a new trait about themselves and others…

James, in speaking about wisdom, didn’t mention Gary Chapman, or love languages. He said, “ask God!”
Isn’t it funny when we insert manmade, “world” wisdom into our spiritual lives? As if we could wrangle self-improvement, put it in a little kennel like some emotional service pet to accompany us on our journey. Eventually the little pet dies and once again doubt shows up on your doorstep. What you trusted before—personality assessments, modern psychology, the good intentions of others—isn’t enough to chase the doubt shadow away.

In fact, it compounds frustration—how am I supposed to be in “community” when I need tons of personal space? Or my kid doesn’t obey me and I’m loving him in exactly the way his personality requires! Or why Should I stay in this relationship when we aren’t compatible?

The non-spiritual wisdom (that which values self/flesh) cannot hold up to the spirit-filled life (that which is made to worship Him), yet we Christians love to wallow in the former and bite our fingernails over the latter!

Paul contrasts these two ideologies when he writes to the Corinthians:
…the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than humans strength. Brothers and sisters, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong!
1 Cor. 1:25-27

The thing that truly changes us from our core is the personal transformation by the Holy Spirit to make us a person who had no wisdom, to one who does. Miraculous death to life—rebirth—this is the story of our victory, one that mirrors the resurrection of Jesus.

The motive behind the Gary Chapman quiz and self-improvement tchotchkes are to manifest a temporary, faux-discernment within the life of a believer without having to die to oneself.
But…you do have to die! Remember when Jesus told his disciples he must go to Jerusalem and die? Peter “took him aside and began to rebuke him. ‘Never, Lord!’ He said. ‘This shall never happen to you!’” (Matthew 16:22)
Jesus told Peter, “Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; you do not have in mind the concerns of God, but merely human concerns.” Then Jesus said to his disciples, “whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.”
(Matthew 16:23-24)

True discernment comes by way of death to self. It doesn’t come from the well-meaning, Peters in our lives who love to smother fires. It is far superior than anything human psychology could produce. In fact, it is a God-given gift—one that is given as a “key” to unlocking certain spiritual truths.

And not many find it, apparently, because

“Wide is the gate and broad the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.”
Matthew 7:13-14

Your situation, whatever it is, requires wisdom and Godly discernment, and it won’t come along a wide path, nor will it even agree with the culture of wider modern “Christian” thinking.

This is the truth: and it is the gospel that buries itself into every kernel of God-given wisdom:
When we turn from ourselves (repentance) toward God for salvation—when we take the leap to trust Jesus instead of ourselves (faith), the Spirit enters our lives (justification) and begins to, if we allow Him, transform our thinking and actions (sanctification).

This is discernment, God’s wisdom gift to us who trust Him.
It’s rock solid. It doesn’t rely on our emotions or play with our thoughts. It allows us to sleep at night. It helps us release our kids. It gives us compassion for others. It teaches us to guard our hearts and lips. It provides energy for day to day living.
Everything I need.

Cry out for insight, and ask for understanding. Search for them as you would for silver; seek them like hidden treasures. Then you will understand what it means to fear the Lord, and you will find the knowledge of God. For the Lord grants wisdom! From His mouth come knowledge and understanding.
Proverbs 2:3-6