From Civil Rights to Selfishness

My nap was ruined today because I made the mistake of visiting a website devoted to "feminist blogs." And, these ladies weren't just discussing how to tell off your bigoted boss or the best way to light bras on fire. No, they were talking about politics--specifically the "inequality" which still exists and "reproductive rights" (read: freedom to kill babies) which they deserve.

By the time I had read two or three headlines, I was too worked up to sleep. I tried to relax, but I kept daydreaming about slapping a self-absorbed feminist--right in the middle of her speech about empowerment of anyone fortunate enough to be born with ovaries.

What bugs me is the mindset behind this particular brand of feminism, which also plays a role in Black Power struggles and the political demands coming from lower-and-middle class folk. All of them have the same mantra: "I deserve________." The philosophy stemmed from the Civil Rights Movement, when the blacks of this nation were correct in saying, "I deserve equality." But, the mindset has been polluted badly since then. Now, simple pride in your race, gender, or sexual orientation has become an elaborate form of selfishness.

I wrote along these lines for a class once. And, since I don't have time for a lengthy post today, you get to read that recycled piece.

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***I'm writing an essay on the African American response to 'failed policy' from 1970 to the present for my black history class. So far, I've enjoyed the class, and the way the black culture evolved and thrived despite oppression is pretty remarkable. However, now that we're looking at the contemporary era, I'm getting frusterated. It's becoming more clear to me how the entire nation shifted from support of EQUAL rights toward the self-absorbed "My Rights" mess we're in now. Here's what I'd LIKE to say in my paper:

The Civil Rights movement was a beautiful point in history because a group of oppressed people banded together and slowly helped abolish unjust laws which had been keeping them from pursuing happiness. This process is what the forefathers intended when they proposed “a government run by the people,” and blacks—along with other minority groups who caught the movement's spirit—proved U.S. citizens COULD change policies that didn't work.

But, I'm afraid much of what has been labeled “unjust” and “failed policy” since then has resulted from Americans of all colors mistaking the right to pursue happiness for the right to have a government which makes them happy.

I don't think most people understand that the Civil Rights movement is inspirational because of how unfair America's laws were at the time. The Movement was necessary because segregation and discrimination were legal, which clearly unleveled the playing field and contradicted the Constitution's guarantee that all men have the same shot at being happy. However, much of the dissatisfaction and controversy today comes from people with that same Civil Rights Spirit, carrying a very different message. The groups are just as angry at the government and just as determined to get results, but instead of saying, “I want my fair chance at a good life,” they're complaining, “Washington hasn't made my life good yet!”

It was during the seventies that oppressed people started coming out of the woodwork and--here's what gets me--ARGUING over whose troubles were worse! Feminism began to flourish, but when white women appealed to black women as "sisters," black women said whites didn't really know suffering because of their priveledged race. Then, black feminists created the NBFO to discuss the issues specifically affecting their race and gender. But, less than a year later, the poor members were unhappy, saying the organization only dealt with middle class trouble. AND the black lesbians claimed the organization ignored gay rights.

So, who needed more advocacy? Blacks? Women? The poor? Gays? When reading this part of the textbook, I'm really confused about who to feel sorry for. Usually the "heros" are much more clear, such as Martin Luther King Jr. who encouraged his race to endure hardships peacefully, always asking for the same simple thing over and over and over, until blacks couldn't be ignored. But when it comes to the 70's, I've just decided not to feel sorry for anybody.

The fact is, it's much easier to support a group like MLK's which has a clear strategy and is willing to die for the cause than it is to support several groups of whiners. I guess the biggest question I have is, what else did they want the government to do? If everyone is being oppressed, isn't no one being oppressed? Doesn't that mean the playing field is level, which gives everyone the same chances? Do these groups really believe that straight, white men have ZERO troubles and are single-handedly responsible for the problems of every body else?

The only solution would be passing laws which intentionally held white men down and gave a special boost to anyone who felt unfairly treated. (Then again, I guess we call that "affirmative action"). And, I suppose the government could give loads of money to places where the Church should be stepping in. (We could call it 'Welfare.') And, maybe it would appease the people who just need recognition if we establish holidays like Gay Awareness Week or Black History Month.

Please excuse my sarcasm, Dr. Kneeland, but you see, I believe very strongly that laws do not change people's hearts and minds. So, if feminists, gays, African-Americans, and even straight, white men are asking the government to force "equal" treatment on a national level, if they're asking the government to hand them jobs and guarantee housing, if they're asking the government to keep making laws and setting up programs until oppressed people are happy, every policy will be a failed policy. _____

This Post is NOT About the Baby

I'm struggling here, guys.

I'd love to tell you funny or inspiring stories about my adventures in selflessness, but I have been THE MOST SELFISH PERSON IN THE UNIVERSE the last few weeks... I get up, go to work and put some kids on the bus, come back home, sleep, go back to work in time to put my students to sleep, then I think about how hungry I am or how soon I will be able to sleep again. (Please Note: I did not mention the reason I'm feeling hungry and tired all the time.)

Seriously, my productivity is hovering around zero, and--though I'm still on target to finish reading the Bible in a year--I haven't allowed God much opportunity to speak. Then again, maybe He's trying to tell me something through my crazy-hormone dreams, in Old Testament style fasion. In that case, I need to find a modern Joseph to explain the meaning of a vision in which I climb the church tower and discover some electronic box, which immediately starts counting down from 30 seconds. When it reaches zero, the church bells start playing a loud, rock song, interrupting prayer, and further causing dead bodies to fall from the ceilings...

Anyway! My point is, I've been very busy being self-absorbed, (again, for an undisclosed reason), and have very little idea what to write about unless I give a shout-out to the member of my household who has taken over the quest to be servant-minded in my temporary absence: my husband.

Oh, also I need to mention that a friend of mine referred me to a website recently, which is run by a very funny 20-something girl--who uses the program "Paint" to illustrate her blog posts. I was told the only thing that could make my blog better was little pictures like this. Ordinarily, I have a strict rule against duplicating someone's good idea unless I can do it better, and I KNOW my artistic skills are not up to par. But, I aim to please. So, consider this an act of service to you personally, Beth. :) You are the only creature other than ME whom I have considered in ten days!

This is precisely what Luke has been going through, in picture form:

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So, no, this post ISN'T about the baby. It's about Luke, who has been so incredibly sweet I would pinch myself if it didn't require so much enery. He even texted me yesterday and said, "Thanks for being so encouraging." (I guess he appreciated the "you rock, Honey?")

Thanks to Beth for the idea for this post, and let this inspire the rest of you to let me know what would make the blog better. I promise it will be at least as pathetic as this attempt! And, before you try to encourage me with, "Yeah, but your depiction of the couch and TV were pretty good!" I must confess. I got tired and asked Luke to draw the last one.

Write-a-Letter Wednesday, Editor of IndyStar

(This article appeared on IndyStar.com yesterday. I wrote to the editor, hoping to get published, but knowing I already had my Wednesday letter finished either way!)

Dear Editor,

Recently, I read the article "Challenges Clear for School 61 Kindergarteners," which was posted to indystar.com on Aug. 24th. I must say, I was surprised by the underling suggestion that parents are responsible for their children's underpreparation.

Haven't the reporters at Indy Star heard that teachers are to blame for the downfall of the American Education system? To point fingers at parents--especially the unfortunate, single mothers and low-income families--for the delays of their children is like saying parental duty goes beyond feeding and clothing their offspring.

In today's tough economy, how do we expect overworked and underpaid parents to know a teacher's name and attend important meetings, much less begin instructing their kids at home before Kindergarten? Don't you know parents pay tax dollars to have someone else socialize their children?

The article quoted early childhood professor Mary Benson McMullen, but failed to recognize her statement for the enlightenment is was: "Children don't need to be ready for [teachers]. [Rather, teachers] need to be ready for each and every child who walks through the door." If those teachers can't reverse a few bad habits (like being unable to speak) by the end of the school year, then why are we paying them the big bucks?

Clearly, what we need is a more centralized government--to throw money and policies at our education system. Also, we could do with more bonuses and other incentives to motivate those lazy teachers trying to amass a fortune in their careers without having to work. Finally, we should tell the administrators complaining about the unready students to lighten up and do their job! This situation is bound to happen during a child's first year, when people get crazy ideas like "parents should be involved in education."

Insincerely,
An Indiana Teacher

P.S. Perhaps our school district should work toward after-school programming that allows teachers to take their students home, feed them dinner, and put them to bed. Some kids in my class still struggle with a spoon and fork, toileting, and other self-help operations, and--again--I know parents are busy. I'm just looking for ways to do my job better.

I Just Can't Hide It...

Actually, I hope to "hide it" physically for several more months. But I can't hide the ridiculous grin on my face or the uncontrollable urge to sing and dance. I've long said I'm my own worse secret keeper, and that remains true.

I'm a few days late in posting because I couldn't type while clamping my hands over my mouth. All I wanted to do was tell the world that something else was late! But, I'm a firm believer Mom and Dad (rather "Grandma and Grandpa") need to know first. So I simply avoided my blog the whole weekend.

Luke knew I was no longer on the pill and that my monthly visitor was taking her sweet time. But, I started getting PMS-like cramps on Monday, and it only had been a couple weeks since we stopped preventing. Surely that's not enough time... Just to be sure, I took one of the two tests I brought, and it was negative. So, that settled it.

But, on Saturday morning, when Aunt Flo still hadn't made an appearance, I couldn't resist taking the other test. Negative... with maybe a hint of a verticle line. No, I was imagining things.
I was so irritated by my own delusions, I almost threw the test away. Really. But, every second made that little blue screen look more like a plus sign. And my first thought was: "I need more tests."

Too bad it was 7:oo in the morning and I wasn't dressed, showered, or finished with my grocery list. (As excited as I was, I'm still too practical to leave the house without buying everything I need in one trip.) Then, all those things took twice as long to accomplish, since I had to walk back to the counter every 2 minutes to make sure the plus sign stayed put.

Finally I made it to Aldi, then Walmart, where I picked up my groceries for the week, three more tests, and a couple yellow burp clothes. I knew I couldn't wait for Luke to get home that night before telling him, so I made plans to meet him at work on his break. Then I went home to take two more tests. Since I still was pregnant, I wrapped all three positive tests in the new burp clothes and put them in a gift bag for the Daddy-to-Be.

This is where I had two hours of alone time--just me and God, enjoying the secret. And I haven't experienced that kind of intimacy with my Father in a long while. I couldn't stop smiling. There was no stopping the praises. God managed to shock me, comfort me, scare me, and bless me, all at the same time, and I've never been more full of praise. (Maybe that speaks to the bad job I've done of praising in the past, but it just was so easy and natural in those few hours...)

I was thrilled with Luke's response when I saw him later. He showed disbelief on his face for about three seconds, and then we laughed and laughed and laughed. I honestly didn't expect to feel this euphoric--it's not like we had been trying to conceive for years. But we were so overjoyed that Luke accused me of torture because he had to finish the work day without telling anyone. Right before I left, he said, "We HAVE to visit our parents and tell them THIS WEEKEND, or I will explode."

So, we did.

This is going to be the first grandbaby on both sides--thus, the first time our grandparents are great-grandparents...the first time our cousins are second cousins, etc. Everybody gets a title change, and everybody was bound to be excited no matter how we told them. But we couldn't just make phone calls.

We bought "I love Grandma" bibs for both of our mothers. And I wrote letters to Luke's and my siblings, from the baby. (For instance, one of them said, "Dear Mommy's Brother, I'm writing to ask what I should call you... Uncle Andrew? Uncle Drew? Uncle AJ? I'm just so confused! Let me know soon because I'll be there in May. Love, Baby McKinney")

But, Luke came up with the best idea for surprising my dad, who is a stand-up comedian. Luke sometimes takes jokes or premises to my parents house to bounce them off "the professional." So, he asked Dad to take a look at some of his new material, which Luke labeled with "setup" and "punchline" marks, the way Dad had taught him. But, this time, it read like this:

S: Grandparents Day is Sept. 12th
S: This has always confused me.
S: Wouldn't you want to celebrate it on the day you found out you would be a grandparent?
P: Like, TODAY?
P: Happy Grandparents' Day, Grandpa John.

Unfortunately, I think Dad was a little slow in comprehending. And Mom already was waving around her bib frantically yelling, "Look, John! Look, John!" Pandemonium ensued. My sister accused me of lying. And I enjoyed the experience immensely, whether Luke's "joke" was understood or not.

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Okay, now that I've relayed the majority of the story, I know what you're thinking. Or, I know what I would be thinking if I were you. "For the love of humanity, Amanda, the last thing the internet needs is another blog kept by a proud, baby-obsessed mother with no aim other than to brag on her kids!"

This is true. And I promised my Facebook friends I would not allow the blog to become over-run by baby. (The majority of pictures and shameless bragging will be done on Facebook...no qualms.) But, this pregnancy is a huge milestone in my journey toward selflessness, and already, it is shaking my foundations a little.

For instance, about a week and a half ago, I was the picture of confidence about my future motherhood. I knew it wouldn't be easy, and that I would make mistakes. I knew pregnancy itself would get uncomfortable and that I would have to make sacrifices in my diet and activities. And I knew my relationship with Luke would be changed forever.

But, I did NOT expect to fall into worry mode within hours of the test results. What have I eaten the last few days?! Is the drywall dust in the living room poisoning the little one? What about the cleaners I've been using? WHAT IF I TELL EVERYBODY I'M PREGNANT AND I LOSE THIS BABY?

I know lots of people who discover a pregnancy early, celebrate with friends and family, and then suffer terrible loss a few weeks later. The doctor doesn't even want to see me until the end of next month, and I know it's because this method "weeds out" the women who will miscarry before their first appointment. My mom, grandmothers, and aunts all have experienced strong, healthy pregnancies--as far as we know--but I have been plagued by doubts and fears every time I stop celebrating for more than a minute. And this is not godly.

This is a weakness of which I am trusting God to purge me.

In my study of trials, pain, and the way God uses them to teach us lessons, I sometimes go too far in allowing myself to suffer. And, in many cases, I readily hand my happiest moments over to Satan, rather than appear emotionally unstable--too euphoric.

Luke and I started dating at 16, and rather than indulge completely in puppy love, I worried what friends and acquaintances would think about such a young couple. When we married at 20, I was afraid to let myself enjoy the moment, because I felt the world was waiting for us to fail. Statistics are stacked against us.

And we're still very young! Luke hasn't quite finished school, and our home isn't close to being ready. Do people say "congratulations" one minute, and "it's too soon to celebrate" the next? Worse: since I'm only 4-5 weeks along, could they be right?

Friends, please pray for me. I have a way of struggling with big transitions, as I try to find a sturdy perspective. And, unlike my marriage--in which I can choose to prove the statistics wrong through hard work and committment--I'm forced to leave the health of this baby largely in God's hands. And, the truth is, I'm nervous.

As unexpectedly excited as I am, I'm equally and unexpectedly nervous. And I just can't hide it...
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Okay, and the mood is back up again! I just spent too long confessing the negatives and I want to return to the party in my heart.

I just got an email from my brother, who is serving in Iraq, and he said, "Eat like a sumo wrestler and produce a kid worthy of first place at the State Fair." And Dad told all his friends he isn't allowed to "walk" anymore. (He's supposed to "putter.")
How can I worry when I'm sitting in God's hands and laughing with my loved ones every few minutes?

How Much Does the Thought Count?

I talk a lot about the times our plans to be loving or thoughtful are thwarted by our own selfishness. But what about the times when our intentions are correct and the message still doesn't make it through? Thanks to the auto-correct function in cell phones, this happens with some frequency.

Something happened to my phone several months ago which convinced it to add a question mark whenever it feels like it--especially after the word "you." I won't even try to guess how many times my husband has received the message: "I love you?" or "I'm glad I married you?"

Three-letter words are the most dangerous, as my mother-in-law proved the day she sent a very urgent-sounding text: "Get has now. You will have to say 30 bent more tonight!" (Translation: Gas prices are about to spike....They'll go up about 30 "bents.") And my dad routinely struggles with the word "home," since his phone prefers, "I'll be good soon."

But, I sent my favorite scrambled message one day last winter, after I slid all the way to work on the ICY streets and warned my husband: "Be careful. The roads are very gay."

In these situations, it really was the thought that counted. Most text messages don't carry critical information. (Though, Luke had to clarify just how, exactly, to prepare for gay roads.) But, when we're involved in serving others, we need to be aware our actions are extremely important--more so than our intentions.

People live by the "thought counts" rule when they make a mistake themselves, but we tend to assume the worst when someone else errs. Take the example of the Ground Zero Mosque...everybody seems to think the Muslims want to build on that property just to pour salt on America's wounds. But few consider the possibility that Muslims see it as a chance to reverse the negative impression on New York. Could their move be an attempt to live in harmony rather than incite everyone taking it personally?

Along those lines, how many times have Christians made terrible mistakes in their efforts to "witness" because they don't understand other cultures? If we take tracts and Bibles to tribes that are starving--rather than food--is it still the thought that counts? At least we aren't a "radical," "militant" religious group bent on attacking freedom everywhere, right? The people of the world should understand our hearts are in the right place and accept our charity as we intended it.

Or..... just maybe.... until we can judge others solely on their intentions, we should be very careful that our eyes, hands, and feet always convey the message of our hearts.

Thanks again for reading, guys! I really appreciate you?

Write -a-Letter Wednesday, Dear Luke

Dear Luke,

You have been the epitome of selflessness this week.

I've been exhausted, and--even now--it's all I can do to write the "Wednesday Letter" and drag myself to bed. But, for this reason, the laundry was left to you, the dishes fell to you, and I just didn't have the energy to grocery shop, either. I know you put AT LEAST 8 hours of work in the living room yesterday, when I was at the daycare, and, I almost forgot, you cleaned the cat pan and mowed the yard at some point, too. Thank you for all of that.

But, more importantly, thank you for the attitude you've had the entire time. You have modeled cheerful giving, despite pain in your neck from painting the ceiling, dust in your nostrils from sanding the walls, and the noise in your ear from my end-of-the-day grumbling. Even as busy as you are--and as whiny as I've been--you keep smiling, letting me vent, and showering me with hugs and kisses.

I'm not sure where you're getting your energy, but it hasn't been from my encouragement. And that's the point of today's letter. I'm sorry I haven't been any help, and I've even been a hindrance at times. I want you to know I've noticed your hard work, and I appreciate it more than my exhausted mind can express.

Thank you for being more than a teammate the last few days. "Team" implies cooperation, and I've already admitted there has been little of that on my part! Instead, thanks for being someone on whom I can rely completely--someone who takes over when I can't find the strength. Thank you for being a servant.

I love you, Mr. McKinney.
~ME~

Serving Made Easier

The television program I was planning to watch tonight is featuring an eating contest. (Read: lots of vomit.)
SO, since yet another primetime show is confusing puke with entertainment, I decided to share a link while I wait for the fun to end.

Here's an awesome resource for people in the Fort Wayne area looking to get their hands dirty in service...

It's a database of real people asking for help with real projects. Or, anyone can submit a request to have people in the community help them meet a need of their own. It's a great system--totally free. And it goes to prove neighbors helping neighbors is the best way to get something done... (Other than begging the White House for hand-outs, of course. I'm sure that method will pan out soon.)

And, you should know there are NeighborLinks organizations popping up in other cities, too. So search for one near you if Fort Wayne is a bit of a drive (or plane ride).

No more excuses. Requests for your service have been listed for you.

And for the daycare quote of the week:
"Watch me! I'm going to hit the homiest run in the world!"

The Meeting

In staying true to the theme of this blog, I'm going to share a story of something which is trying to kill me. There is no spiritual application. No take-away value. Just a tale of misery encountered on the road to service-offering and tongue-biting, which I either can share with the world or allow to eat me from the inside.

I give you the story of The Meeting.

For over a year now, I have been doing odd writing jobs for the CEO of a certain company in Fort Wayne. She is a nice, Christian woman who is very good at her job. But, the projects she attempts to undertake on the side are lofty, misplaced, and usually require the collaboration of a whole host of professionals: writers, yes, but also videographers, web-designers, marketers/publicists, and certainly a personal assistant to keep her on task....

Her "team" as it appears today? Me and her poor husband.

Once, this CEO hand-wrote 20 pages worth of an "article," and then she had her husband scan them, email the PDF to me, and ask that I type them into a word processor. This is an actual excerpt of what she had written:

We are often only one step away from making a good day/hour/moment into a GREAT day/hour/moment--pressing yourself into the behavior that will yield fabulous results! Being true to your dreams, ambitions, and goals, pressing forward--the extra effort it takes to live and move and have our being.Listen to me now--you have a choice. That choice will determine your life outcome. Good, small choices become great, wise decisions. The joy of life pays unbelievable dividends when wrapped in positive actions as a result of good choices. Day by day is too big. I'm talking moment-by-moment. The yieldedness to a best future.

She then asked me to "edit" it. And, obviously, this required more than changing the word "yieldedness."

I tried emailing a couple times to find out what the main point of the article was supposed to be, but after she responded three or four times about the font size she wanted me to use and quotes she'd like me to include, I cornered her on the phone and explained I would need to know what the article was about before I could think about its appearance. Turns out, she was trying to write a piece directed toward people in their golden years, helping them make the most of their time before death. (Oh, of course!)

Once I understood the goal, I reduced the 20 pages to three, changed just about everything in the document, and sent her a fairly solid, informative article she wanted to title the September of Life. (I've noticed people who only think they write articles spend a lot of time on titles.)

But, problem: my good work backfired when she liked the finished article so much she wanted to turn it into a booklet.

Now, since she promised to pay for my efforts, I told her I'd "edit" anything she sent me, but that I only wanted to deal with text--no lay-out stuff, no marketing, no anything but the writing part. She agreed. And, after I received another PDF of hand-written notes (this time 40 or 50 pages worth), I arranged it into a cute little booklet which talks about emotional and psychological preparation for the end-of-life. Done. Right?

She called me in for a meeting yesterday, frantic because she wanted desperately to "release" the September of Life booklet in September, but that only leaves two weeks. Here is the email she sent me regarding the topics she wanted to cover in said meeting. (Click to enlarge)

Marketing, publishing strategies, something about hobbies that I didn't even understand. Plus, more talk about quotes being added? (sigh)... I knew it was going to be a painful meeting:

CEO: Did you get my email? Good. I wanted to let you know I've already talked to some publicist friends who have agreed to help me get this booklet in the hands of lawyers, doctors, and other people who regularly see the elderly.

Me: Okay, sounds like a fine idea.

CEO: But, since we don't have any real-life examples of people who benefited from this booklet, I wanted to add quotes about Life from famous athletes, plays, or other authors, if we could. How long would that take?

Me: Um, it depends on how many you wanted and whether we would need to get permission from the person we are quoting. Also, do you want the quotes to be included in the text somehow, or do you want them to appear in a sidebar or at the beginning of each chapter?

CEO: I don't know! I want to stay true to the original intent of the booklet--the vision God gave me. But, since this focus group thing didn't work out, I feel the product I birthed isn't what it was meant to be! (*She is referring to an idea she had about bringing together a group of her friends to answer pages and pages of workbook questions about writing wills, nursing homes, and other things. For some reason, her friends stopped answering calls.)

Mr. CEO (the husband, who is the entire design, print, and marketing team and just wants to make CEO happy): Well, if you'd like me to call the people we wanted to include in the book, I could try to get the answers to those questions.

Me: And then, what? Email their responses to me so I can add it to the content in the book?

Mr. CEO: Would that work?

Me: I can do whatever, as long as my orders are clear.

CEO: If we get a few questions answer in the next week and quotes from famous athletes, can the booklet be printed, bound, and ready to sell by the first?

Me and Mr. CEO (simulataneously): NO

This upsets CEO very much, and she spends the next hour of the meeting trying not to yell at us, while we explain that every little change to the content of the book pushes back the publication--even if you're "self-publishing." Repeatedly, I say:

Me: If you're happy with the booklet as-is, without quotes or real-life stories from people who have read it, then my phase of the project is done and you guys can start the design and self-publish phase now. But, were you hoping for more content?

CEO: Well, the font is way too small for older eyes...

ME: No, that's part of a later step. I'm asking if you're happy with the words as they appear, or if you want me to add more?

CEO: I''ve read it too many times! I know I'm about to burn out, and I just can't look at it anymore!

ME: ????? (What am I supposed to do with that?)

CEO (directing anger at poor husband): I've lost soooo many good ideas because we can't seem to follow a deadline! I feel like I'm bound and gagged in the trunk of a car. That's exactly how I feel. Because my idea has been put out there and I specifically said I want to release it in September. But, if it's not ready to go by September 15th, I'm done."

Me: Well, I'm sorry you're disappointed with the amount of time this is taking. But, I still don't know if you're trying to salvage the "vision God gave you," or if you're more worried about moving on to the publishing phase.

CEO: I just want to talk to this audience! I have such a burden for the people who are wasting their final years. I just want to talk to them! My talents are in the spoken word....

ME: .........(could it be she's starting to realize the real problem?!)

CEO: That's why I believe God wants each booklet to include a complimentary DVD of myself giving a September of Life seminar...

(*Amanda shoots herself in the head*)

Write-a-Letter Wednesday, Dear Readers

Dear Readers,

Please, if you like what you see, "follow" my blog. It helps to know who, exactly, I'm talking to when I'm on a tangent about politics or bragging about my students or confessing a royal failure...

AND, once you make our relationships official, I just want lots and lots of feedback. It's hard to write something new and relevant several times a week. But you could make it easier by sharing some of the stuff you're discovering on this crazy ride called life. Send me an article, tell me when you disagree with me, or let's explore problematic Bible verses together. (Oh, that reminds me: did you know one of the midwives in Egypt during the time of Moses was named "Push?" That's not problematic. Just funny.)

Anyway, you may consider this somewhat of a cop-out post. It seems like a cheap advertisement, as opposed to a sweet, sentimental love-note for my as-yet-unconceived babies, or an expression of sincere thanks to past mentors. But, as I mentioned, I'm starting to hit a wall in the way of a good topic... And I'd love to hear from you about what a none-cop-out letter would be.

Make me think this week, people! What's bugging you? How is your personal quest for selflessness going? Have you seen examples of true, sacrificial love? If you give me some fodder, I would be happy to write next week's letter directly to you.

With gratitude for your readership (and thanks in advance for hitting the "follow" button at the top of the page),
~Amanda~

Egad!!

Ugh, Gross, Yuck, Blech, and other assorted expresions of disgust. I came home to one sickening situation!

Like a good detective, I pieced together the evidence a little at a time.

Hm....an empty container of Bug spray? Interesting.

A forgotten bag of popcorn... I dare sayLuke was sidetracked by something in the middle of his snack...

Let's see....I don't remember that tape on the wall.

And, who left this flyswatter on the floor?

Wait, are those little carcasses near the couch?...

And what will I see if I follow the trail of death?...

EGAD!!! That is disgusting!

So, if quite a bit of time passes before my next blog post, you may guess we're busy EXTRICATING THE CARPENTER ANTS FROM THE WALL. (Eeeeeeewwwwwww)

Nothing Like a Long Conversation (especially a 12-hour one)

So, shout out to my friend, Gwen.

She asked if we could meet for dinner, since she was driving through my neck of the woods on her way from Chicago to her grandparents' house in central Indiana. But our surprise dinner turned into a surprise sleepover because we couldn't stop talking.

At midnight, we realized her grandparents probably would be more freaked out than glad to see her if she bounced through their door... so we just continued chatting until 2:00am. yay! I can't remember the last time I talked until 2:00!

I'd love to have a transcript of the conversation, because it was just what I was praying for. (Turns out, people annoy Gwen, too. haha.) But, since we literally talked for hours, I'll have to settle for sharing just one thing she said that clicked with me.

First of all, we talked a lot about the difficulty of being with Christians who've been "babies" for a long time. To reference the "milk" vs. "meat" principle, it's hard to find people who are ready for a steak these days. For example, I said something about how sad it is that people come to Christ due to the scariness of Hell, rather than because their souls yearn for God. People believe the only draw of Heaven is streets of gold and....the ability to fly? Or something? And it's soooo much more.

As a kid, I remember thinking the material treasures in Heaven probably aren't worth an eternity, and I was afraid I'd get bored. But if I had understood the completeness that comes from finally being able to feel God's love, all the time, then the last thing I would have needed was a sermon about the horrors of Hell. I just wish everybody could understand that, too.

But, Gwen said something very sensible: All of us have to start with a basic understanding of Heaven. Part of the Christian journey comes from having incorrect views and changing them over time.... I had to misunderstand Heaven's treasures on my own path before coming to a more mature grasp of the concept.

I'm very concerned with feeding Christians big-kid meals--which is important. BUT, it occurred to me that I often risk choking a baby Christian on those solid foods, just because I'm sick of the milk myself. Yes, people go to church for 40 years and manage not to grow up, and that is bad. But, I have to be patient with those who are growing--just slower than I think they should.

Okay.....

Now, I've spent too much time in front of this computer today, and I'm going to leave you on that note...

Thanks, God, for sending a carnivorous friend. And thanks for reminding me to be patient with your babies.

More Kid-tastic Artwork

Anybody want to guess the theme on which my Genius-Student has been fixated this week?

If not, I'll let him spell it out for you:

For those not from the area, the TinCaps is the name of the minor league baseball team in Fort Wayne. Their name is a reference to Johnny Appleseed, and their official logo looks like this:

But, if you were a 5-year-old working from memory, you would draw it like this:

At this point, the TinCaps are offering a nice break from Peter Pan, Downtown Fort Wayne, and a couple other phases we've been through in the last year. But I'm sure I'll be completely sick of hearing about them in another week.

Anyway, the object of today's post isn't to highlight more material from my Student Genius alone. No, today, he must share the spotlight with one of the girls in the class--as I'd like to share a few pages of a story she read to me the other day.

"This girl is crying."

"Boys like snakes."

"Girls like puppies."

I also learned from this book that "kids sitting on a porch are happy," and "Mommies and daddies hug."

It's an excellent read on a lazy Wednesday afternoon.

ANYWAY, the pizza is ready, and then Luke and I must return to the dry-wall-and-paint project happening in the living room these days. But, I'll leave you with my newest brain storm. Why spend time blurring facial features to obeserve privacy laws, when I simply can take pictures of the anonymous Iron Men taking over the classroom. (As always, they created these projects without help--including the light-up "arc reactor hearts" on their chests. )

Mosques and Same-Sex Marriage

Alright, brothers and sisters. Jump off your political high-horses for just a second.

We claim to love the Constitution and the freedom of America.

But, I'm here to tell you, that means we may have to allow things legally that we wouldn't support morally. Think about it. If we believe adults are free to make their own decisions, (as long as they don't harm others), and everybody doesn't think exactly as we do, then we are guaranteed to dislike some people's choices--and it doesn't necessarily require a change of law. What do I mean?

Well, maybe we should let people drive without seatbelts, if they feel inclined to risk their own lives. Or, maybe it should be legal for adults to shoot themselves full of cocain or smoke pot, if they have no regard for their own health. And, specific to this post, perhaps we should allow Muslims to build mosques on any property they can afford--even if it happens to be a couple blocks from Ground Zero. Or maybe gay adults should be allowed to marry...

Please don't get your panties in too much of a twist because, as far as I can tell, the Constitution protects all of those things. And the same Constitution gives Christians the right not to participate in those immoral or unethical activities. In fact, the Constitution even protects our right to attempt changing the minds of those who practice them--which we could do with sound logic, genuine love, intentional service, or any other "strategy" we wish.

But Christians don't use their right to change minds. They don't practice genuine love or chat face-to-face with people who disagree. It's too hard. Christians would rather have the President or their Congressmen step in, butcher the Constitution, and force unbelievers to act like believers.

I know it feels like a victory for Christ when California reinstates the ban on gay marriage. And it's hard to picture Muslim worshipers marching past the Twin Towers and into their new mosque. It's easy to take those things personally and make a vow to destroy all immorality with one blow from Congress.

But we need to ask ourselves, what difference does it make fighting for law changes when the real battle is in the heart? Do we really think that keeping gays from marrying or Muslims from building is making a difference where it counts? Nope. It's just giving people more reasons to hate the Church. Instead, personal interraction and intentional love are the only weapons we should be using.

Do you think Muslims are misled, often-violent individuals, who are disrespectful toward a post-September 11th America? Then you'll need to introduce yourself to a few Muslims and engage in a loving conversation. Do you think gay marriage is an abomination? Befriend a homosexual and begin the foot-washing.

I know it's a big task--loving and serving the entire world. It seems almost impossible; certainly more difficult than writing your Representative. But taking moral issues to court is spiritual laziness. Our Constitution is best left as is, allowing adults to make moral choices based on convincing information.

And it's our responsibility to convince the world with information about Christ....by acting as He did.

(To read about the kind of radical faith we'll need to love the entire world--changing hearts instead of laws, click here. Or, if you want to be made uncomfortable, read this article about "Gay Christianity." Whether or not you think homosexuality and Christianity are mutually exclusive, the author makes good points about fighting the wrong battle.)

Raising Children who Serve

Dr. Michelle Anthony is excited about the same things I am. She wants to teach her kids to be servant-minded Christ-followers--but she knows the only way to achieve that goal is to model servanthood herself...

What would happen if Christ's Church made serving a priority and actually got their hands dirty? Would our neighborhoods be changed if we took a rake or a mower door-to-door and loved our neighbors free of charge? If I opened my wallet or my home or my own transportation service, would people still ask the government to meet their needs?

Would someone be permanently impacted if--despite being tired from working all day--I put down these pistachios, shut my computer, and performed an act of kindness?

I read Dr. Anthony's article this morning.
She decided to quit making excuses--even good ones like having a job and a busy family--and she spent time being an intentional servant for once. She and some friends drove around town asking the question, "What needs to be done here?" and then they did it.

Her experience is goosebump-inspiring.

Write-a-Letter Wednesday, Former Teachers

***The idea is to write an open letter every Wednesday to someone who has impacted my week.***

Dear Former Teachers,

Thank you.
No one could ask for better examples of knowledgeable, dedicated, and servant-hearted instructors than the ones I've had in my school career.

If I have been successful in academia (and I have), it's because you made achievement fun, and I never had to worry that my accomplishments would go unnoticed. I loved when my elementary teacher (Mom) would tell Dad everything I'd mastered in History, Grammer, and Math--all while I was in earshot. I loved the stickers and green "minus zeros" used by Mrs. Hite and Mrs. Nierste in middle school. And I've kept the note written by Miss Harsh, my highschool English teacher, in which she said some of the most encouraging things about my writing I've ever heard. (You're still the "ink in my pen," Miss Harsh. hehe!)

I'm remembering Mr. Phillips and Mr. Firebaugh and Professor Ford and Chip Macgregor and the whole host of others who've invested time and energy in my development, and all of you are on my mind because I'm a teacher now. And I'd love to know someday that my efforts have made a difference.

Sometimes it's a thankless job encouraging others to learn. But I want you to know I've fallen in love with knowledge because all of you demonstrated that same love in the classroom. You would deliver your lessons excited about sharing ideas and turning on lightbulbs in the minds of your students, and I caught that bug! Thank you for your contagious enthusiasm. Thank you for your positivity and your encouragement.

Currently, I'm trying to figure out the best time for getting my Master's degree, because I know I'd love teaching college classes eventually. If I could teach Special Education, I'd be in Heaven. I just need to work up motivation for paying more money and securing the diploma. But I'm excited about the possibility of teaching long-term because you, former teachers, have made it look great. Not easy. But great.

And I'm confident I'll succeed when I finally haul my butt to grad school because you made me feel smart, responsible, and capable all my life.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.
~Amanda (Branyan) McKinney

Got Twenty Minutes?

Ah, education. I love your pure form so much that I despise your current state.

On my banner at the top of the page I've listed education as one of the things that "wants to kill me" because I see a pretty hopeless mess when I look at it.

Parents are at war with school boards, arguing about what should/should not be taught. Many teachers are losing their jobs. But, even the educators who remain employed have to defend themselves constantly when their students are failing. (As if it's solely the fault of the teachers.) Test scores are dropping. Schools are closing. It's ugly.

And, since I don't like messes, it nearly kills me to think about all of it. The government wants to throw more money at the problem. Parents seek help from doctors writing prescriptions for Adderall and Ritalin. But few people question the practice of putting 25 kids in a room to hear lectures 7 hours a day.

However, Ken Robinson says kids weren't made to learn in mass-produced fashion, and if you have 20 minutes, this is a worth-while video:
Ken Robinson says schools kill creativity Video on TED.com

Robinson doesn't have any solutions other than a "radical" change of thinking and overhall of the education system--one that embraces diverse types of intelligence rather than solely the three R's.

But it's a good place to start. And it gives me an introduction for suggesting specific changes in later posts. :)