The Twilight Saga

First of all - if you're a teenage girl, a middle-aged girl, an older divorcée, a younger divorcée, an older married woman, or even a creepy middle aged man that still lives at home with his parents - please go ahead and log off. No hard feelings.

This post has nothing to do with vampires or werewolves - even or wookies, for that matter. Nobody will take their shirt off, here. Nobody is in an epic battle over the life-blood of a potential new recruit. One that isn't all that pretty in the first place.

No, this is the saga of the Twilight School Program. It is in its second year of inception. Metro-Nashville Public Schools decided it would be another way in which to continue to educate delinquents instead of kicking them out. Basically, when a student gets suspended (out of school), he/she gets the option of going to school after everyone else leaves. I signed up to lead that program at my school.

At different times of the year, we can average from 5-10 students in this program. Over the last 2 days, we had one fortunate soul. Some days are better than others. On some days, I can get some work done in my classroom and prepare for upcoming events. On other days, it's a miserable existence. For both of us.

We arrive.

The student retreats to his space.

I to mine.

He does his work begrudgingly.

I do mine.

On the days in which I don't have something to do, I try and bide my time until dismissal. Try and stay sane through the monotony.

But, tonight, something dawned on me at Twilight. (Pun very much intended!) These students, who are serving time for their actions, are causing someone else to serve time as well. Their actions actually require the supervision of an innocent bystander. That bystander, must accompany them through their consequence and back.

I bemoan my requirement to stay and suffer. Especially when it wasn't my actions that brought us to this place.

It's funny how quickly we forget.

When was the last time that the tables were turned? And, I was the one incarcerated and someone else had to chaperone me? Not just someone. But, Christ had to suffer with me - and for me - despite his innocence.

He didn't do anything to deserve it.

He didn't do anything to warrant it.

And, even knowing that, he volunteered to go with me. He volunteered to take my place.

He served consequences for my actions. He paid the price for my mistakes.

Today, we released one of our students "back into the wild." Time served. As he left, we told him, "We don't want to see you here again."

May I first say, "Thank you." Thank you that God knows Jesus' face more than mine. Because he's the one that paid the price over and over for me. Thank you for reducing my sentence. Thank you for walking with me through the pain of my choices. Thank you for being my guide. Thank you for taking my place.

Oh, and thank you that the Twilight trilogy is over.

From Potties to Prayers

I'd have to say that, as a parent, one of my most exciting phases of parenthood was when Hannah finally said "adiós" to the pull-ups, pampers, and pee-pee sheets. A milestone had been passed and freedom was the reward. Freedom for Hannah, and freedom for us. No longer would we have to travel with a huge diaper bag and extra sets of clothes in tow.

Conversely, I'd also have to say that one of my most frustrating phases of parenthood is currently watching Nick return to his first love - the pull-up. Both Elizabeth and I have tried the 3-day method. The 2-day method (I highly recommend a power washer, blindfold, and nose plugs for this one). The 10-day method. The bribe them with anything that talks, crawls, or tastes good method. The punish them from anything that talks, crawls, or tastes good method. We're currently on the 99-day method. (If you're interested, it'll be in stores and on Amazon.com very soon.) This particular method involves banging your head on the wall (mine, not his), pleading and crying (once again, me), and ridiculous attempts to rationalize and present logic to a 3-year-old.

We'll do really good for about 2-3 days, then he'll turn into an indoor sprinkler for 5-6 more.

That's what is so frustrating. It's not that he doesn't know what to do...he does. It's not that he doesn't have the capacity to tie-it-in-a-knot...he does. It's not that he can't tell it's coming and do something about...he can. I know what you're saying..."he's only 3 give him a break!" Okay, you come do our laundry.

But, it's not even the laundry. Or the smell. Or even the mess. It's knowing that he's missing out on something that Hannah's experienced and that we know is better for him...(all together in your best William Wallace voice) FREEDOM!. We know that he's missing out on something beneficial and succumbing to something primal.

Man, I come down so hard on him, sometimes.

Then, it hits me. (Not literally, that'd be gross.) But, I'm tearing my son a new one for what I still haven't learned in all my years. That God is shaking me, pleading with me, crying for me, dying for me to make the right choice, when I feel the urge to lose my self-control. When given the choice I all-to-often relinquish self-control and give in to my urges. And what am I squandering, just like Nick...FREEDOM (in Christ, that is). Not to be bound by this world, this sin any longer.

Unfortunately, it's taking me longer to work through this. I'll let you know how it works out for both of us. I'm currently on the 36-year plan.