Character Corner

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The best kind of days

The best kind of Saturdays are lazy Saturdays. 

You stay home in your PJs, doing light housework at a leisurely pace. 

Nothing is rushed. Everything is enjoyed. And you wish there were more days like this one. 

Don’t get me wrong. I’m all about working hard and playing hard. 

But I’m starting to wonder if the drive to be busy is why most things in life–even passions–become burdensome. 

My creativity level is higher when I have more margin. So is my energy level. 

The idea that everything is urgent needs to die. 

Very few text messages, emails, and phone calls are important. 

We don’t have to scramble around, ignoring what’s going on around us to check our phone each time it goes off. 

You don’t even have to take pictures of everything you do…

Maybe your Facebook page will be boring, but if that’s the worst thing that happens you’ll be fine. 

We all need to be more intentional about creating margin, breathing room in our schedules. 
I encourage you to schedule in a lazy day. 

You won’t regret it. 

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Remembering a great teacher

One of my former English professors passed away. He was battling multiple myeloma (cancer of the blood plasma).

Dr. Chris Hokanson was a great man and a wonderful teacher.

At first he intimidated me because of his credentials:

B.A., Stanford University
M.Ed., Harvard; M.A.
Ph.D. Indiana University

My first thought was, “I’m going to fail a few classes this semester.”

I quickly discovered, though, that Dr. H wasn’t an academic elitist, ever boasting about his superior education.

He was a quiet, yet confident man who wanted all of his students to reach their full potential.

ChrisHokansonDuring class discussions, Dr. H made an effort to point out your good thoughts and comments. Sometimes he’d even say, “That would make a great topic for your paper!”

(Any time a professor says an idea is a good paper topic, you’d be foolish not to take the suggestion and run.)

Even when I turned in a horrible draft–probably written at 2 AM–for review, he never complained. Sure, he’d joke about the noticeably poor quality of my work, but he always ended by saying that it was well on it’s way to being a great paper.

Dr. H took an interest in his students’ lives beyond the classroom doors.

When my dad came to visit me at Judson (our first meeting), I was late turning in a paper–really, really late. Dr. H asked me how everything was going and offered me an extension.

I deserved an automatic “C” yet I was granted an extension…

Many Judson girls have similar stories. Whether it was a family crisis, sickness, or just general slacking, Dr. H was gracious. He always gave students the benefit of the doubt.

Judson College will not be the same without Dr. Hokanson. He will be greatly missed by faculty, staff, and students alike.

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Microwaves and lucky numbers

You are more likely to be struck by lightening while being attacked by a shark than winning the lottery.

It’s true.

And yet the number of lottery tickets bought each year is only getting bigger.

Why is that?

Here’s my theory:

Microwaves are the problem.You can now zap fry anything and it’s ruining America.

I can eat a frozen dinner while writing a paper while watching an episode of Seinfeld while buying a pair of shoes while checking my email while scrolling through my newsfeed while paying bills while on eHarmony while buying plane tickets while placing a bet on the next horse race.

And I never have to leave my house or change out of my PJS.

It’s the American dream, right?

Everything I want can be mine….right now!

No need for patience and long term planning. (Only people with flip phones still do that.)

lottoThis is the only reason why people buy lottery tickets: The hope of instantaneously falling into the good life.

Our microwaveable culture is even creeping into churches.

Why bother working and serving in ambiguity when you can take the stage and preach? You have the answers that will solve all the problems in modern Christianity. And you’re only 22!

(Please be sure to donate your brain to science one day, okay? We’d all like to know how you became as wise as Solomon so quickly.)

There’s no such thing as a microwaveable life.

The quicker we abandon this idea, the better.

Now did anyone eat Chinese today? I need the lucky numbers from your fortune cookie.  

I want to buy a lottery ticket before going on my deep sea fishing trip during the thunderstorm.

I’m feeling lucky!

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Trophy collecting is a bad hobby

I played Little League baseball as a kid and I was terrible.

Right field was where I belonged because that’s what you do with a seven year old girl with no athletic ability whose stepdad happened to be the coach.

Every season I got a trophy–even though I didn’t deserve one.

TrophyMy skills didn’t improve the one year I played softball either.

Every game my coach told me the same thing when it was my turn to bat: Take one for the team. 

So I would stand at the plate, let the softball hit me, and then walk to first base.

My only prayer was that the ball wouldn’t hit me in the spot that was bruised from the week before.

As terrible as I was, I still received a trophy…

And don’t get me started about my one year of girl’s basketball.

My only contribution to the team was scoring the winning shot for the other team, but I still received a trophy…

It would be foolish for me to display all of those trophies today, wouldn’t it? And yet that’s exactly what we do with our lives.

We are so proud of accomplishments that mean absolutely nothing.

I kill it at Candy Crush. I’m the top scorer in the Game Center! That has to count for something, right?

If you really want a trophy, go to a garage sale. They’re a dime a dozen.

If it’s a life of meaning you’re after, that requires a bit more effort.

Find something you love and get to work.

Quit flirting with mediocrity at the water cooler.

Get busy!

Yes, seasons of hard work–and even failure–will come as a result.

But I promise you that the rewards you do receive won’t end up in a garage sale.

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I lost my ruler, so I can’t measure my IQ

Today I discovered an organization called Mensa.

Their only requirement?

Your IQ has to be in the top 2% of the general population.

And you can’t even lie about it because they want certified test results.

Here are the purposes of Mensa (taken from their website):

Mensa has three stated purposes: to identify and foster human intelligence for the benefit of humanity, to encourage research in the nature, characteristics and uses of intelligence, and to promote stimulating intellectual and social opportunities for its members.

I find the whole concept amusing.

A whole organization where high IQ is the standard…..

Can you really measure intelligence with a test?

How is that even possible?

Some of the smartest people I know have never graduated high school.

Some of the dumbest people I know have three to five titles behind their name.

Intelligence is too complex of a subject to be measured by only a test.

What about wisdom and character and common sense? Shouldn’t that be part of the intelligence equation?

It’s my dream to sit in a room full of all kinds of people–high IQ or not–and brainstorm how to make a difference in this world.

And put each person’s special gifts and talents in our toolbox to do it.

How cool would that be?

Please hear me out: I’m not bashing anyone or any organization. Don’t leave here thinking that I’m a bitter cynic.

I just don’t see how only gathering with your own kind is ever a good idea. You’re missing out on a lot of  great adventures and life lessons that way.

On a completely silly note, if a group of Christians formed a similar group, I hope they would call it “Amensa.” A girl can dream, right?

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Internet 101: Think before you post

It’s really easy to be mean on the internet.

You can leave a comment or tweet anonymously.

You can post sarcastic memes in an attempt to be clever.

The sky’s the limit in the worst kind of way.

I know that the internet has a lot of good purposes, but that also means it casts shadows as well.

There is–and always will be–two sides: good and evil, right and wrong.

Be on guard as you use social media platforms.

Be on guard as you send emails.

Be on guard as you blog.

There are many days that I could get on here and share all kinds of things. My emotions and feelings can kick into overdrive faster than I realize.

But not everything has to be shared with the world.

Self-control is needed in this area.

My newsfeed on Facebook and Twitter is a mess…

Some things are mean, others are just silly and pointless.

Nothing surprises me anymore when it comes to what people will and will not share online.

This oversharing pandemic happens because many of us have never experienced the depth of a tight knit community.

Our culture’s tendency is to walk through life alone, without friends and family there in the crucial moments.

So we get online and start blabbing and blabbing and blabbing.

Or we hide our anger and resentment behind clever statuses and tweets.

This bad cultural trend will lead us down a dark path if we’re not careful.

Beware, my friend, of what you share.

Think before you post.

Get some real, two-dimensional friends who offer support–not just likes and re-tweets.

I am not a hater of technology, but we have to get a grip.

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Month One Reflections

I have blogged every day for a month.

Wow.

This project is stretching my diligence and consistency muscle.

Consistency really is key.

Before I started this journey, I had all of these ideas for blog posts, but I never got around to writing.

Now, I look forward to writing a post every day.

I won’t say that I plan my topics (because most of the time I don’t) but I know that, at some point, a post has to go up.

This knowledge serves as my motivator.

And now I’m thinking….

What else can I accomplish with a boost of consistency?

All of the clichés are true.

Add consistency to good character.

And then step back.

BAM!

You just found the formula for success.

It’s that easy…not!

But it’s worth it.

And that’s one of the biggest lessons I’m learning right now.

Here’s to another month of blogging.

Cheers!

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A fugitive’s life

I went to school with a boy who never talked. It’s not that he couldn’t talk because I know that he could (a few times in class he would answer a question). He just didn’t want to talk.

He also never ate lunch.

I sat across from him everyday and watched him do homework as I ate my federally mandated portions. A friend of mine made it her personal mission to get him to talk. It never worked. He did, though, laugh at her jokes. She was quite funny.

I asked him to sign my yearbook and, to my surprise, he did!

“I shall maintain my silence.”

That’s all he wrote.

Everything about him was a mystery to me.

He was a genius who won a full paid ride to college….

He was an artist who wouldn’t participate in the senior art show….

He didn’t even come to graduation….

So many things to not know.

My biggest question is why.

Why was he hiding?

When you boil his actions down, that’s all he was doing.

He was full of potential; He had no reason to hide.

I have to ask myself the same question too.

Why am I hiding?

We all need to answer this question.

Why do we hide our dreams?

Why do we play it safe?

Why do we stay small?

I always wanted to ask that boy why, but I never wanted to ask myself.

And that’s because the answers reveal the fears I never wanted to face.

Until now.

I used to be a fugitive, running away from my own life….

I’m tired of hiding.

I am answering the questions–even when it’s painful–and slowly finding my way.

What about you?

It’s time to stop hiding, to stop living a fugitive’s life.

Answer the hard questions.

Stop running and start living.

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Rabbit trails about inadequacy

I enjoy walking to the bank. It’s a nice change from sitting  all day.

The bank manager normally mills around and talks to customers. Today was Friday, so he was dressed casually. Monday through Thursday he wears a suit–an ill-fitting suit–and he seems a bit jittery. I got to thinking that maybe he’s uncomfortable because the suit doesn’t fit him.

The sleeves go way over his wrists and his pants are too long….he reminds me of a kid playing dress up. Maybe he feels inadequate and that makes him nervous?

I realize I’m speculating and this guy could be the most confident man in the world.

But my imagined story is not far from a truth many of us face everyday.

Feelings of inadequacy can sneak up on the best of us.

I saw a girl from high school today in a restaurant. She always made me feel small and unimportant. When I saw her, I panicked and found myself looking down, willing her not to notice me.

I thought about her and the branch manager as I walked back to my office.

My rabbit trail of thoughts led me to this conclusion:

We all play dress up at some point. We all experience inadequacy from time to time.

The act of dressing up, though, is actually a great test of our faith.

Sometimes you need to do it scared. Whatever “it” is for you, I can guarantee you that the first few times you step out will require a great deal of faith.

Your clothes will be too big.

And then you grow in confidence until you’re like Arnold Schwarzenegger, biceps ripping out of the sleeves from all the muscle you’ve built up. (Sorry! My imagination just got the best of me again.)

 But growth like that takes time and practice and even a few failed test runs.

Don’t let these things keep you from trying.

Don’t let feelings of inadequacy stop you.

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Good friends are noticers

“Faithful are the wounds of a friend, but the kisses of an enemy are deceitful.” (Proverbs 27:6)

It’s hard to think of wounds being a sign of love.

But wouldn’t you rather a friend correct you, to notice and care about the decisions you are making?

This is a silly illustration, but it’s  a classic:

Having a piece of spinach stuck in your teeth all day, but no one tells you.

What’s the first thing you say?

Why didn’t you tell me?!?!?

Ouch moments are great tests of character.

Nothing says “there’s still room for growth” like your mistakes being noticed.

When facing an ouch moment, I have to battle three things: embarrassment, anger, and pride.

I have to filter all of these feelings–as well as who’s doing the noticing–before responding.

Please don’t read this and think I’m talking about rolling over and letting someone squash you like a bug.

Remember what the proverb said?

Faithful are the wounds of a friend.

Friends correct out of love. They are lovingly pointing out your mistakes–not rubbing it in your face or shaming  you in the process.

Friends are trying to help you.

If all of your friends are kissing your cheeks and telling you how awesome you are….well, read the rest of the proverb, okay?

In a healthy friendship, each person grows.

Here’s another proverb:

As iron sharpens iron, so a man sharpens the countenance of his friend. (Proverbs 27:17)

If I’m not careful, I can resent correction. My natural inclination is to believe that others are out to get me.

But that attitude is destructive, which is why I have to beat it down daily.

Meaningful friendships are worth more than gold.

We need to give our friends permission to notice things –even the not so great things.