The Modern Road Trip

   "106th to Farmer to East Allegan to Grant...106th to Farmer to East Allegan to Grant..."  Soon I will be on my way to Otsego High School for another cross country meet and I am memorizing my directions.  With today's marvelous computers, finding where to go is easy.  But I have yet to latch on to modern navigational tools and all of their programming skills.  When I am traveling I still rely on a basic sense of direction to get me to where I am going. But I know the methods I use to find my way in this world are becoming archaic.  With Siri and all of her technologically-advanced friends like MapQuest and Google, getting from Point A to Point B has never been easier.  Plug in an address and wait for a device to tell you where to go, when to turn, what you will see along the way, and what the color scheme will be when you get there.  No longer is it necessary to know names of streets, how an address system is laid out in a city, or the landmarks to watch for along the way.  Now one does not need to have any familiarity with any town or city to feel comfortable in finding one's way around.  Gone is the need to ask for directions.  Gone is the need for the intuitive and the old "north-south-east-west" innate sense that I have.  Gone too is the challenge of getting lost just to see if I can find my way home.  While it used to be an asset, my sense of directional skills has been superseded by a talking tool.  I now can leave my mantra of "106th to Farmer to East Allegan to Grant..." at home and never again do I have to know where I am once I leave the house.
   I wonder if we are now living our lives in much the same way as we navigate.  I feel many have no idea of where life is leading them until they get to wherever they end up.  Do we have a clear understanding of our landscape, our goals, our priorities before setting out in life?  Or do we wait for machines and computers and navigational systems to set the course for us?  What do I think about an issue?  Let me get on line and see what others are saying.  Do I know what my goals in life are?  Let me glean from the internet what the different possibilities are and I will just blindly follow.  I may be directionless, but I think I am on my way to somewhere.
   This cancer experience has reminded me my days are numbered.  I want to use what I have been given to encourage and bless other people.  I don't want to be told by machines what to think and where to turn and what I should be doing and where I should go.  I wonder if there is a metaphor here in these navigational tools that points at how our children are growing up directionless and just waiting to be told to go somewhere.  It may be a stretch.  I may sound like an old foagie in this not-so-subtle rant.  But I think about these things and wonder.
   Today I will not be using any technology to find my way to Otsego High School.  I know what milestones to look for and I have my innate ability to find my way around.  No thanks, Siri...I  will do it on my own today.

   P.S.: I am back home now.  I made it there and back without getting lost or stopping to ask for directions.  Siri?  She stayed home all day.  It is possible.

"Do Unto Others..."

   I challenge you.  Just look. Notice what is going on around you.  There are people that are blessing others in simple and beautiful ways. If you take the time to see it, you will be amazed at the people around you who are busy showing that other people matter. Notice how certain people are selflessly impacting the lives of others.  Jesus did this on many occasions.  As I continue to recover from my bout with cancer, I am striving to live a less selfish life and to find ways to use my "post-cancer self" to increase the joy and value of living for other people.  There are so many who spread the love and their actions take so many different forms.  Here is what I have noticed just in the last 24 hours:

• I used to live across the street from Tom.  I have not seen him nor heard from him in probably 20 years.  He sent me a message on Facebook just to encourage me to heal and to stay strong.
• My son's soccer coach took the time before the game last night to ask how I was doing and to remind me that he and the whole staff at his school have been watching my progress and praying for me.
• One of the aides here at school told me today of how her family has taken in a young woman to live with them for her last year of high school. Her family life was non-existent due to divorce and drugs.  This girl is on schedule to graduate with honors and is looking forward to being the first person in her family to go to college.
• My son had an easy goal-scoring opportunity in front of him in last night's game.  Instead of shooting, he passed it to a teammate who had not scored at all during the year and in cold truth is a horrible soccer player.  The kid scored and all we could hear was his laughter as he celebrated his first-ever soccer goal.  The rest of the team was thrilled too, even though they were winning easily at the time (final score: 13-1). My son just smiled.
• One of my son's teachers who was sitting with me at the game witnessed this assist-and-goal combo and said to me, "Your son plays soccer like he lives life."  Then I just smiled.
• While working on a math assignment, I witnessed a student take the time to explain how to do one of the problems to another who was having a difficult time understanding.  The assistance was offered without my prompting.
• I heard on the radio that at a local Starbucks, someone started a "pay it forward" chain, asking the cashier at the window how much the bill of the person behind them was and then paying for it.  The Starbucks cashier reported that 31 people in a row chose to bless the folks behind them.  (I can only hope that Person #32 accidentally left his wallet at home.)  
• One of my eighth-grade boys fist-bumped a kindergartener today for no apparent reason.  After my student was out of earshot, I heard the little boy's friend ask him, "Who was that?" The kindergartener said, "I don't know, but he's my friend."

   Simple, and that was just what I saw in 24 hours.  All of it is so simple.  Notice someone.  Compliment someone.  Help someone.  Achieve with someone.  Encourage someone.  Love someone.  Get out of the way so someone else can shine.  St. Francis of Assisi (1181-1225) once said, "Preach the gospel at all times and if necessary, use words." While he probably said this in some form of old renaissance Italian and while the translation may have been altered a bit over the years, the message rings true today.  Take the challenge.  Give it a try.  It ain't hard.  Make it a habit.

"You are the light of the world.  A city on a hill cannot be hidden.  

Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl.  

Instead they put it on a stand and it gives light to everyone in the house.  

In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds 

and praise your Father in heaven" -- Jesus (Matthew 5:14-16)

My Life Is A Multiple-Choice Quiz

   It is Friday.  It is the first day of autumn and it happens to be about 142 degrees outside (well, maybe only 95 degrees, but it seems hotter than that).  While we do have air-conditioning at school, the room was never what you would call "comfortable" today.  Besides, once a middle schooler starts sweating at lunch break, the aroma does not go away just because he comes into the semi-air-conditioned classroom. For me, the advent of the weekend has promises of rest and recuperation from the busy schedule of teaching.  It might allow me to rest up and be prepared to go again come Monday morning (although I always feel more optimistic about that now on Friday afternoon than I do on Sunday evening).  I feel as though my health is fine, but I have some frustrations and lingering questions about it (presented as a multiple choice quiz -- that's the way we teachers do it):

1. I am tired at the end of the day.  The primary cause of this exhaustion is:
     a.) I am a middle school teacher.  It always happens that way to everybody.
     b.) I am still recovering from my bone-marrow transplant.
     c.) I am getting older...by the day.
     d.) It just varies from day to day.  There is no primary cause.
     e.) I am just a whiner.

2. My joints are stiff and sore when I first start moving in the morning.  The primary cause of this is:
     a.) I am a middle school teacher.  It always happens that way to everybody.
     b.) I am still recovering from my bone-marrow transplant.
     c.) I am getting older...by the day.
     d.) It just varies from day to day.  There is no primary cause.
     e.) I am just a whiner.

3. I cannot gain weight or strength.  The primary cause of this is:
     a.) I am a middle school teacher.  It always happens that way to everybody.
     b.) I am still recovering from my bone-marrow transplant.
     c.) I am getting older...by the day.
     d.) It just varies from day to day.  There is no primary cause.
     e.) I am just a whiner.

4. I like my students...but only most of the time.  The primary cause of this is:
     a.) I am a middle school teacher.  It always happens that way to everybody.
     b.) I am still recovering from my bone-marrow transplant.
     c.) I am getting older...by the day.
     d.) It just varies from day to day.  There is no primary cause.
     e.) I am just a whiner.

   You are welcome to take this assessment for yourself, but I really don't have the Answer Key ready yet.  The tricky thing is that some of these could be answered by a combination of options or even by the response that always loomed large for me when I was a student: "f.) All of the above."  I never liked that one as an option though -- as a student I think I checked that one every time just to be sure I got at least part of the question right.
   Well, it's a weekend.  Thinking about it a little more, maybe I should wait and take this quiz for myself in about 48 hours.  My self-assessment will probably be more accurate then.

My Regular Oncologist

   I had a doctor's appointment today with my "regular oncologist."  This term, "regular oncologist," is a term that I had never thought I would be using a year ago at this time.  But it meant that my bone marrow team has turned over the reins of my care back to my basic, every-day, run-of-the-mill cancer doctor.  He too is pleased with how things are going.  My labs were good, the scans are clear, I am slowly gaining weight (I still have to find fifteen more pounds somehow), and my progress is very good.  After today I don't even have to see the regular oncologist for three more months.  This is all great news.  He was surprised to hear that I have been back at work full-time for the last month or so and that, other than the tiredness that has become a part of who I am, I am progressing very well.
   This is all great.  I am thrilled for myself, my family, and my school community.  But I am also awaiting the news of the times that will be set for Brandon's funeral.  As I mentioned in the last post, I have a kindred soul named Brandon who just passed away from the very disease, non-Hodgkin's lymphoma, that I have been fighting.  Brandon also had a bone marrow transplant.  The juxtaposition of my good news stands in such stark contrast with the impending funeral procedures and associated grief Brandon's family must endure in the next few days and then months.  God does things in his way, on his terms.  His decision to allow me more time on this earth when others do not have that opportunity still confounds the minds of those of us going through these things.  Why save me?  Why take a 30-year-old father of two little boys?  If nothing else, such a contrast reminds me of the importance of each day and the responsibility I now have of living life to the fullest and to be ready to serve my God in whatever way I can.
   My hair is growing back.  My taste buds are slowly normalizing.  My endurance is gaining.  Even my weakened fingernails are getting stiffer.  I feel as though I have turned a proverbial corner today on toward renewed and renewing health.  Now comes the challenge of making each day count for something good and for working toward fitness and vitality.  It is good to have a regular oncologist.  It is even better to not have to see him for another three months.  Thank you, God.  Now empower me to do what I need to do with each day.

My Brother Brandon

   I received this text from my friend Nancy last night at 10:45 pm:

"Phil, I'm sorry to tell you that Mary texted me a little bit ago that Brandon died tonight.  It's not out to the general public but I wanted you to know before you found out on Facebook or some other way.  My heart breaks for Danielle and those little guys!! We continue to pray for complete healing for you you as we pray for Brandon's family." 

   I never met Brandon, but I knew him well.  I never spent time with him, but we were brothers.  I never even spoke to him on the phone, but I knew to some degree what he was going through. This is not as confusing as you may think.  Brandon had lymphoma too.  We were tracking each other's progress on line and had initial plans to meet a week from today at a benefit that was to be held for him.  We had common prayer warriors who knew both of us well (Bev, Judy, Nancy, to name a few) even though the two of us had never met.  We kept hearing from them how we needed to meet each other soon and share war stories and encouragement.  Brandon and his wife Danielle watched my blog while I charted their progress through friends and Facebook.  But during a respite in his treatments a few months ago, Brandon's cancer returned with a vengeance and the treatments he had to have in Milwaukee could not interrupt the progress of his disease.  Through it all I marveled at the faith and the strength of Danielle as she tended to Brandon's needs while simultaneously working hard on the craft of motherhood for her two little boys. A few days ago, Danielle posted that Brandon needed a feeding tube and things were not looking good.  Then this morning she posted the following passage of her Facebook page:

"I write this with great sadness in my heart. My loving husband, Brandon, passed away last night. As many of you know Brandon had fought a long, very hard battle with a very aggressive cancer. Many of us would not have been able to go through a lot of the things Brandon had to endure. He went through so much pain and suffering-especially in the last week of his life. He was my best friend and my other half. A part of me died with him last night. He was the best husband and the BEST dad to our boys. I have peace in my heart knowing he is in heaven now and no more pain!! The last couple days were extremely difficult for me and I'm so thankful I have family and close friends who were there to support the many many difficult decisions that fell into my shoulders. So many life challenges are ahead of me but I know Brandon has a strong soul and he will be right by my side guiding me along the way. Please pray for my kids, they are going to miss their daddy so much! Once we have visitation and funeral arrangements in place I will let you all know." 

   I hate cancer.  This disease is vicious.   I hateithateithateit.  But when it affects the young, the children, the parents of pre-schoolers, I find myself loathing the disease in a whole new way.  

God, what is going on?  Why is this thing allowed to do what it is doing to families?  You don't owe me an answer, but it honestly makes no sense.  Bless Danielle and the boys.  I don't know what else to say so I leave it at that today.  

Keep Calm and September On

   Whew.  It's September.  I forgot the truth about Septembers and how they can shock the systems of teachers. Although I love teaching and classrooms and students, each day can seem hurricane-like in its busy-ness.  Each day has me running from one activity to the next.  On most days I hardly have time to eat.  Each afternoon finds me tired.  Each evening I feel a little stiff and sore, as though I have been on a horse for just a little too long, but my doctors predicted that would be the case for me as I continue recovering from the stem cell transplant.   Up early, take my meds, off to school, deal with 43 fascinating children, race off to the sporting events or activities of my own children, find something to eat for dinner, get lessons prepared for the next day, grade a few papers, help out with the household chores, then sit down and realize how exhausted I am.  Before I know it, I am back in bed and...(yawn!)...zzzzzz.
   Psalm 37 reminds me to not fret.  Psalm 46 says to be still.  Psalm 1 exhorts me to stay rooted. Psalm 3 tells me that God is the lifter of my head.  Psalm 150 orders me to praise the Lord. Through the demands of September, I need these reminders. As September gives way to autumn, I need to live these out. As autumn ebbs and Christmas approaches, these are still truths that must be exemplified in my life. Through the New Year, the cold of winter and all the way through until June's graduation ceremony, I must continue to make these a part of my life.  When summer comes, and teachers relax, these truths must continue to echo through the essence of it all.  Cancer has taught me once again of the urgency of embodying these truths every season, every day.  Do not fret...be still...stay rooted...God lifts my head...I must praise Him...these are good reminders for September's chaos.  These are my reminders for life.
 

Saturday Sports and Memories

   It's a September Saturday.  Sports are in the air.  Every college football fan is still optimistic about his team's chances for the upcoming year.  Kids are into their fall soccer schedules.  And we just came home from our first middle school cross-country race.  My son Tem ran.  So did several of my students.  It was so exciting to see each of them push and challenge themselves successfully in this race.
   I have not been to a cross country event in many years.  Cross country is a phenomenally simple sport that involves running over a two-mile course (five kilometers in high school) through countryside terrain or city parks or golf courses or school campuses.  Each course has different conundrums to challenge the runners: hills, rough patches, sharp turns, uneven ground.  Bad weather can further increase the challenge, making mud where there was none or bringing a wind that can impede forward progress or chill the runners and stiffen their muscles.  I was a runner through high school, and remember those days and friendships fondly.   Lessons about perseverance and discipline, hard work and endurance, teamwork and respect did not have to be taught.  These were all inherent to the sport itself. 

John D. Warners

   But I missed my dad today.  John Warners was both my father and my high school cross country coach.  Every race I ever ran or watched,  he was there except for the one day we ran against Creston High School during my senior year and lost by one point.  My grandmother had suffered a heart attack during the day and my father and mother were at her bedside.  She died that afternoon, right about the time we were running.  Even now that day seems like a recent event in my mind.
   My father should have been at the race today. His grandson would have made him proud.  In the field of about 150 middle school runners, Tem crossed the finish line in third place today.

My son Tem and his grandmother, Jane Warners

He ran very well.  But knowing my father, he would have been proud of Tem long before the race today.  He would have been proud because his grandson works hard at school, is kind to people, has a great sense of humor.  There were times when I was growing up that I felt as though my father was proud of his children only when we performed well or achieved something great.  That was the impression I had. Retrospectively I was wrong.  What changed my perspective was watching him interact with his grandchildren over the years.  He loved them and was proud of them simply because he was their grandpa and not because of how they performed.  But my father died four years ago. While he knew and loved my youngest children, today would have been special for him.  My mother was a spectator today and she mentioned how great this would have been for Dad to see. Today the old coach could have seen his youngest grandson excel in the sport that he loved.  It would have been special.
   On this Saturday in September, sports are in the air.  On the cross country course today, so was the nostalgia.  It is good to reflect and reminisce.

Zesty Fun Facts

   You can find out a lot about a group of people when you spend an overnight with them in a small bunkhouse.  You can find out even more about them when you ride on a school bus with them for an hour and a half...two days in a row.  About fifty of us from school (43 students, 3 teachers, and a few random but invaluable parents) experienced a 24-hour excursion together to a camp near Lake Michigan to kick off our school year.  We were taught lessons on leadership, working together, community, and courage by the camp staff.  Trust, teamwork, communication, and cooperation were the buzz words our hosts used often.  It was a wonderful way to watch students interact and work together.
   But besides those lessons, there were others that I gleaned along the way, and many of them made me smile.

• I learned that Anna likes the word "zesty."  It was a funny story that we will just keep to ourselves.  But trust me...it was funny.
• I learned that Cam will not stop drinking when the fountain drinks are free and available.  I thought the boy was on the verge of drowning so I closed down the bar.
• I learned that there still is a "wow" factor for thirteen-year olds when they encounter sand dunes and rainbows.
• I learned some unnamed seventh grade boy can snore with the best of them.
• I learned that one of them can also pass gas in his sleep...no kidding.
• I learned I have to stop calling Taylor by her sister's name.  
• I learned that Connor has Jewish blood.
• I learned what a "po-po car" is.
• I learned that after twenty-four hours of intermittent rain mixed with adolescent perspiration, dirty laundry, and Doritos (nacho cheese flavor, of course), the aroma left behind in a school bus can be a bit pungent.
• I learned other little and sundry things about this group of students that makes me smile and know that we are in for a good year.  I have once again been impressed with how patient students can be with each other, how much fun they can have together, and how much fortitude many really have when things become difficult. I also noted that several of them need to improve in these areas as we chip away at their own insecurities and social handicaps.  

   I like these kids.  Oh sure, some have rough edges we will have to polish, and some have not been given the same opportunities as others to excel in school and in life.  But I was able to see each one as an image bearer of God who then fully deserves my honor and respect and love and care.  I am excited to be around students again after being on vacation from them for too long.  And I will do my best this year to not let the little things that used to bother me become issues. Besides, middle schoolers are a lot more fun than adults.  When was the last time adults enjoyed a word like "zesty" so much they giggled every time it was mentioned?

Lost Without Truth

   School begins tomorrow...again.  After exactly three-point-five days of school last week, we are now just concluding a four-day holiday weekend.  It is appreciated but still rather strange to have such a long weekend following what was essentially a short week.  We have four days of school this week -- with two of them being spent with my students at camp -- before another weekend is upon us.    We have no real chance of getting into a routine together until maybe next week. So it is.

   I deal with children whose world is changing so quickly around them.  I listened to a speaker named Abdu Murray yesterday.  His premise is that the world is changing exponentially faster on our children than it ever has on any previous generation.  His claim is that we as a society are now past a post-modern phase of thinking and into what he has labeled "the post-truth age."  The post-modern age is highlighted by the call to be accepting of differences we find in each other; post-truth reasoning makes anyone a villain who dares to espouse that there are definite truths governing our world.  If I believe in Biblical norms, I am intolerant.  If I believe in the sanctity of marriage, I am a bigot.  If I dare express truth regarding the claims of Jesus Christ, I am essentially Hitler and Stalin rolled into one great evil tyrannical maniac.  Post-modernism still held room for the possibility of finding truth.  Post-truth claims there is no truth to discover.  When truth is dispelled, there are no guideposts or landmarks to chart our course.  There is no common ground or genuine community between individuals and groups of people.  A "self-first" society turns us even more inward.  Ultimately there is no reason to help someone in need, there is no reason to show empathy for someone in a difficult situation, there is no reason to "love one another."
   For those of us who are striving to shape the world of our children, this can all be scary, like the waves the disciples were focusing on while in their boat.  But when Jesus showed up, the waves were calmed and the disciples once again witnessed the power of truth in action.  Jesus often reminded them of how he epitomized what was true: Jesus was "...full of grace and truth" (John 1:14).  He said, "I am the way, the truth, and the life" (John 14:6).  He began so many of his teachings with the phrase "I tell you the truth..." Truth is rooted in Jesus Christ.  Truth can be offensive.  We may not like it, but our opinions, which the world is now claiming must guide us, are fickle and without merit.  It is only through truth that we can live lives that have any kind of meaning, for as Jesus said, "If you hold to my teaching, you are really my disciples.  Then you will know the truth and the truth will set you free" (John 8:31-32).
   School will be in session again tomorrow.  Truth will be there, on display every day for my students.  That fact will be the framework of everything we do, even if it is not routine in other places.