Trust and a Mild Case of ADD

I currently have no papers to write. I'm halfway through my superintendent certification (that Trey made me sign up for) and I'm done with classes until mid-January. No papers or discussion board posts for a month.

It seems I can't help myself from writing something anyway. 

We were in a leadership meeting today at work, and our Director of Leadership did a little activity about Four Things Followers Need. We reflected on leaders who influence our behavior daily and wrote down four things that make us want to follow them. He encouraged us to think of one work person and one non-work person. My non-work person was my mom. I'm not sure I can remember all four things I wrote down, but it was along the lines of honest, acts with integrity, listens, and...something else. My work person was TP and I don't even care that it was a predictable answer from me. I wrote down passionate, knowledgeable, fun, and...something else. It was a powerful exercise!

Then our presenter revealed the "four things that followers need" and had us categorize the characteristics we had written down as one of the four things. And lo and behold they all fit. It's like he planned it!  

The first one (at least I think it was the first one) was TRUST. Of course that immediately got me thinking about automatically flushing toilets. 

In short, I don't trust 'em. 

Not for a minute. 

(In hindsight it's possible I may have a mild case of ADD, but I digress.)

Sometimes these "magic toilets" flush while you're still sitting on them. That's a unique experience at best and a shock at its worst. And if they're so dang automatically super smart, why are they flushing when I haven't even moved? 

But what's worse is when you finish and dress and then wait silently for the auto-flusher to do its thing. And wait. And wait. 

In a crowded bathroom you absolutely cannot leave the stall and hope it magically decides to flush before the next in a long line of women walks in. Because if it doesn't flush then YOU'RE the super gross non-flushing lady and everyone knows it. I mean, who doesn't flush? Toddlers and barn animals. That's it. Everyone else must ensure the entire transaction is complete every single time. 

And so you MUST wait. Sometimes you have to almost hug the stall door so that it thinks you've left. Sometimes you have to wave your arms, but not so high that they go above the stall door because who wants to be the lady dancing in the bathroom stall? 

Are these automatically flushing toilets really making our lives better? I'm going to go out on a limb here and say no. 

I'm also ready to publicly admit that I, SGH, after years of battling these modern conveniences, have determined to always find the button and flush it myself. This prevents me from being the super gross non-flushing lady and the disco-stall-dancing lady, and it's worth it to me. I am a button pusher, and I am not ashamed.

And I always vigorously wash my hands. 

As a final note, in Mexico the "button" on the potties is actually a foot pedal. You step on it and never have to touch anything. If I ever pack up and move to Mexico people will think it's for the beaches or the serenity or the food. 

But it will really be for the toilets. 

PS - In case you're interested, the others of the four things followers need were stability, hope, and compassion.

How We Make Kindness Too Hard (or maybe it's just me)

Or, as an alternate title, Stop Overthinking and Start Showing Up

I've decided that we make showing love (and kindness) too hard. 

Maybe it's just me.

Here's a simplified example of how it goes in my brain when I think of doing a nice thing:

"I'm going to visit my friend! I should stop at Sonic and take her a diet coke!  But what if she's trying to give up soda? I could get tea. Sweet or unsweet? What if she's cutting down on sugar and I show up with a sweet tea? What if I bring unsweet and she thinks that's just gross brown water? Ugh ugh ugh. Stopping at Sonic couldn't possibly go well. I absolutely should not do that!  I might inadvertently offend her! Way too risky! What was I thinking?"

I also worry about what might happen if I do a nice thing for one person and another person finds out and then wonders why I didn't do something for them. They might think I don't like them. That would be terrible! I do like them!  (I mean, whoever they are...)

Woooooo!  Welcome to the crazy train! 

My kind, generous friend, who does not make showing love too hard, recently donated her kidney to her friend and coworker. You read that right - she gave him a kidney. I wanted to do something for her, and since I'm a proper southern lady that something needed to be food. Then I thought these things:

• What if she doesn't like what I cook?
• Are there dietary restrictions after you give up a kidney?
• How do you make good food without much salt?
• She's a good cook. She might be judge-y of my food. 
• AHHHHHH!!!!! This is a terrible idea!!!!!!!

But our current Bible study is about Bob Goff's book Everybody, Always, and it reminds me that our job is to show up. That's it. Just show up. So I researched good foods for post-surgery, did some cookin', and made a delivery. 

Sidebar - I love my friend and whole bunch and needed to put my eyes on her to make sure she was okay, so the delivery let me do that, too. I didn't quite care if she was up for visitors because I needed to see her. Sorry, E! :)

Anyway - I told myself over and over that even if they thought the food was gross and threw it all in the trash it didn't matter. My job isn't to be perfect. It's to give away love like Halloween candy at 9:00 pm when we all just want to go to bed. 

Fast forward to Lesson #2 from our Bible study (this past week), which is about catching people on the bounce. Goff tells an elaborate story about skydiving that I won't attempt to recreate, but the idea is that when people hit the bottom - because they messed up or life dealt them a raw deal or just because their plan didn't work out like they thought - we need to be there to catch them as they bounce back up. That's what love does.

Our tendency can be avoid people when we don't know what to say. Especially those of us who are charter members of "over-thinkers anonymous." We're worried we'll mess it up, embarrass ourselves, accidentally say the wrong thing. 

But who cares!  Who actually cares? 

We're making our jobs too hard. Show up. Love people. Be kind. 

That's it. The whole deal. 

It's Happy New Year for us school people, and this is my New Year's Resolution. 

Just show up. That's it. 

Everybody, always. 

Unoffendable

Our current Bible study is called Unoffendable, and it's by Brant Hansen.  Our Bible study group is both the best and worst because we are real and the same people in church we are out of church and also sometimes we get busy and don't meet for a few weeks. We're not consistent, but...well...it's cool. It works for us. 

Anyway, the study addresses anger and the idea of "righteous indignation" and how sometimes Christians think it's their job to be mad about all the stuff that other people do wrong (but really it's not). It's a video series, and Hansen states in the first week that he's on the autism spectrum and also has a vision issue that makes him move his head in unusual ways. This might be one reason I love him so far - he just is who he is. 

In week one, he talks about how Christians use the example of Jesus turning over the tables in the temple as a reason we should get super red-hot mad and throw a fit about all the "sinners." Then, in his direct, no-nonsense way, he says, "You're not Jesus." Jesus is holy and omnipotent and has the capacity to judge with anger. We're human, so we just don't. 

Sidenote: I put sinners in quotation marks on purpose. I think some people look at others as sinners, but...dude...we're ALL sinners. Don't kid thy-self. ;)

Jesus taught us to love others. Matthew 12:30-31 says, "Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength. The second is this: Love your neighbor as yourself. There is no greater commandment than these." So basically that's like, our #1 job. 

Today's lesson was still about anger, but it was also about stress. How humans are the only species that get ulcers based on some atheist scientist's book about zebras (for real). We enable our fight or flight response about things that may or may not actually happen in the future and then get used to living in that mode rather than just using that response when we really need it. Basically, we stress out about scenarios of what might happen instead of living in the moment. 

Ouch.

But the real kicker today was that we become caricatures of ourselves the older we get. We become more extreme versions of the people we are today. So think of who you are today, and picture the extreme version as the old lady or old man version of yourself. It's an interesting thought.

Stated differently, what do you want people to say about you when you're an old person? 

Today I said I wanted people to say I am wise. I still want that, but I want to add that I hope they say I have integrity and can be counted on to treat all people with love. If those things are what I want, I need to keep them a priority while I'm still such a young whippersnapper. 

I adored this question and wanted to share it. Your Sunday night pondering - what do you want people to say about you when you're an old man/old woman? 

The Mother of the Graduate Post

This post has been rattling around in my head for a minute, so it's time to give it a go. 

This afternoon my baby boy graduated from high school. Holy. Moly.

When your kid starts kindergarten, you don't assume that during the weeks leading up to his high school graduation you'll be praying that he passes all of his classes. But for some of us out here, that's where we found ourselves 13 years later. And our kids are awesome. 

So this post is in honor of my baby boy - a kid for whom the academic grind never came easy but who got it done anyway. He's one of the smartest people I know, and I'm continually amazed at how quickly he learns how to do something and then makes it happen like it was nothing. 

This week I was reminded of the time Keaton won a cooler at the fishing tournament in our neighborhood. After he brought it home he outfitted it with wheels and holders for fishing rods so he and his buddies could roll it down to the pond and take it fishing whenever they wanted. I think he was about ten, and that was only one of many times he built/constructed/dreamt up something and then just did it.

When he competed in gymnastics he always seemed happiest when his teammates did well. 

He knows all of our neighbors by name and talks to them regularly. (Trey and I can't claim that skill.)

He visits his grandparents because he just wants to spend time with them. Even the ones who live two hours away.

He is kind and fun and the most hard working person I know. 

And because I apparently can't have a post without making it about school, here's that part:

He took his last day of school picture his junior year with the parking lot attendant, and his favorite people in the whole school were the attendance office and counseling office staff where he worked as a student aide.

During his senior year of high school he finished 8 certifications through ASE (Automotive Service Excellence).

And now something for the school people:

If you were of the very, very few of Keaton's teachers who thought to yourself "this kid is irresponsible," then I hope you can reflect and know how wrong you were. He has worked since he was barely 15 and has skills for life that many adults don't have. He has a servant's heart and would do just about anything for you whether he knows you or not. School not being a kid's favorite thing in the world is not a character flaw. 

And if you're one of the many, many teachers who sat next him and told him he could do it when he just didn't seem to care, or if you're an elementary teacher who let him wiggle and reminded him he could do anything he set his mind to, or if you're someone who took late work and only penalized with a lecture because you knew he learned what he needed to in your class and it was all about the learning anyway...if you're one of these teachers then the Hickmans and this mom thank you from the bottom of our hearts. You are the best of the best. 

So here's to Keats and all the other kids who looked in the mirror this graduation week and finally let it sink in that they made it. And then they took a deep, joyful breath because where they go from here is all up to them. 

I'm not naïve enough to think he's perfect, but if you ask me he's pretty darn close. 

We love you, kid! And we are so very proud of the exceptional human you are!