Maximizing Minimums

In yesterday’s blog we talked about taking advantage of teachable moments that pop up in everyday life, things like being given too much change at a store or not being charged for everything we bought. Rather than look at these moments as irritating inconveniences, wisdom tells us to view them as golden opportunities.

Mary and I, now in our late sixties, look back at our active mothering years and see lots of things we’d do differently if we could begin again. One of them would be to maximize the minimums, in other words, use small moments to teach big concepts.

This would include the obvious, like the extra change situation, but also less apparent chances to teach youngsters. Mary said, “One thing I wish is that I’d involved my kids more in giving to others.”

I reminded her she’d done a great deal, taking meals to people in crisis, driving Meals on Wheels for a hospital, tutoring children after school. She stopped me, though, and said, “But I didn’t usually let my kids help me. It was much easier to get it done without them.” We agreed these were still good deeds, but both of us had forfeited teachable moments.

As we talked, though, we did come up with two times when we did teach our young children through everyday circumstances:

Hot chocolate

  1. Mary and her carload of children drove the same route to school for years, always passing an elderly crossing guard who daily helped young children cross the street (to a different school than Mary’s children attended). She remarked to her kids about this man’s faithfulness to his task, rain or shine, and wondered how they might show admiration for this stranger. Her children decided, during a very cold winter, to bring a thermos of hot chocolate to him and a thank you for a job well done. Whether or not the old man appreciated it, Mary’s children learned to consider the effort of someone else and express thanks for it.

Leopard-lined gloves2. In driving my own carpool daily (to a different school), the children and I always passed an older woman bowed over with extreme osteoporosis. Gripping a walker, she inched along a particular stretch of sidewalk next to a middle-aged man, no doubt her son, painfully exercising at the same time every day. We looked for her as we came down the street, and my children wondered what we might do to encourage her. They decided to buy her a pair of warm winter gloves and deliver them with an original poem of admiration. On the day we stopped our van for them to jump out and approach her, I knew we’d accomplished something worthwhile in my kids.

Surely countless other examples could serve as ways to maximize teachable moments for children, whether our own or someone else’s. Jesus instructed us to be of practical help to others, not just for their benefit but for ours, too. He knew that would make everybody happy.

“How joyful are those who fear the Lord…. They share freely and give generously to those in need.” (Psalm 112:1,9)

Feeling Inadequate

IRS formsThere’s nothing like a 1040 form to make a non-mathematical person like me feel dim-witted, especially on a day when I had already been through one other brainless episode.

The first began innocently when Klaus dropped by to spend a couple of hours. I asked if he could teach me how to email a pdf document to someone, and he said, “Sure. No problem.”

An hour later, I was still practicing, working on my sixth try without success. After each failure (accompanied by groans of defeat) Klaus would patiently say, “Let’s try once more. You’ll get it this time.”

In the end I had to write down every step in order: “Look on the left of the screen; click on the 4th option down; a purple box will appear; scroll down to…” etc.

When Klaus would say, “Just fool around with it a little and try several things,” I felt like a hitchhiker being pushed out of a car in the Sahara Desert. I know I’ll get it someday, maybe even the next time I try, but without Klaus in the house, results are bound to be mixed.

H & R Block

Later the same day I was sitting with a tax expert at her H & R Block computer, thinking the only thing I’d be required to do was watch her work. How was I to know she was going to ask so many complicated questions?

It doesn’t take much for some of us to feel incompetent. That goes for spiritual things, too. Maybe especially for those.

Sometimes when studying the Bible I feel thick-in-the-head, unsure of what God is trying to say to me. But there’s more to it than just not understanding what a passage says. It also can be intimidating to open Scripture with the goal of trying to get “inside” the logic of God. That can feel really awkward or uncomfortable.

But what might his perspective be as we’re reading and studying… a trying? I’m just guessing, but I’d say he’s probably smiling, appreciating our efforts, even those that end with only partial understanding. Thankfully, he’s always been a Person who looks at our intentions rather than the results. (1 Samuel 16:7)

And intelligence probably has very little to do with it. Even feeling brainless is ok. After all, if a child can understand much of what the Bible says, nothing should stop the rest of us from trying, too, even those of us who feel dim-witted in front of a 1040 form.

The Lord looks down from heaven on all mankind to see if there are any who understand, any who seek God.” (Psalm 14:2)

As Good as New

Back in 1974, Nate and I took out a loan to fix my faulty teeth. Having just had our first child with a second on the way, we fell far short of the extra thousands needed for 4 root canals, their accompanying crowns, and a bridge.

Great teeth

Nate was fortunate to have inherited a good set of choppers, not even needing braces to straighten them. My teeth were a different story, a continual challenge with my first abscess and the related extraction while I was still in high school.

Our ‘70’s dentist was a good one, though, and his work lasted nearly 4 decades. As my new Michigan dentist said today, “You got your money’s worth.” I was visiting him to see what could be done about another split tooth whose crown had fallen off.

These days I seem to be in Dental Repair Phase #2, with a steady string of obligatory re-do’s. There is a silver lining to all this renovation, however. The last 4 decades have seen all kinds of developments in the dental industry, and as my dentist replaces yesterday’s old with today’s new, my teeth are gradually beginning to resemble Nate’s, morphing from greyish metal fillings and gold crowns to pearly whites that look like they’d never known a drill.

Maybe...

Back in 1974, I figured with all the work I needed that by my mid-60’s where I am now, I’d be sporting a full set of false teeth. But today my dentist assured me that won’t happen. And although my mouth is falling apart right now, by the time I hit 70 it may look and feel like the mouth in this picture.

Sometimes things have to get worse before they get better. Actually that seems to be the rule. For example, as a praying mom I’ve learned not to box God in by asking him to meet my expectations of how and when he will answer. I know he hears my requests and am sure he’ll work out the answers, but it never fails that things seem to get worse before they improve.

That used to frustrate me and make me wonder if there was a better way to ask for God’s help. But he reminded me of something that spoke to the dilemma: surgeons use scalpels to help patients heal. In other words, they have to cause new hurts to fix the old ones. Dentists work that way, too, and I think God brings the answers to our prayers similarly.

If that’s true, after we ask him to get involved and then watch in shock as things fall apart, we ought to inwardly be rejoicing, because at that point his “fix” can’t be far away.

As I left the dental office today, it wasn’t all bad news. They helped me sell my old crown to a gold-buying guy, who gave me just enough to take a friend to lunch.

“Though you, God, have made me see troubles, many and bitter, you will restore my life again. As for me, I will always have hope; I will praise you more and more.” (Psalm 71:20)