There is nothing quite like Christmas to stir up thoughts of the past. The lights and the trees, the smells and the sounds, so many things that can trigger memories of years gone by. And perhaps, a few "perfect" moments; picture framed in our minds and forever cherished.
I recently took my daughter to the Christmas Twilight Parade in hopes of creating such memories for her. We watched to floats go by, decorated with lights, playing music, and of course throwing out some candy for the kids as well. The weather was perfect and new Christmas memories were made; it was good night.
There were two floats in particular that caught my attention however, but not because of their theme or design. It was the organizations that presented them that took me back to memories past, memories of a time where perfection meant something much different to me.
I never went to public school. My parents, trying to do what they thought to be best for me, sacrificed and sent me to private school. Now, private schools are notorious for many things, and a more strict code of conduct is usually right at the top of the list. The first school that I ever attended was no exception, and was, quite frankly, one of the most disciplined schools in the area. Corporal punishment was part of the rule book, and spanking was still common.
There was a system of punishment in my first school that I became quite familiar with; let me explain.
At least once a week, the principle would come to our classroom and stand at the doorway with a list of students names. One at a time he would read off the names, and as you heard your name read from the list (which mine almost always was, lol) you would stand next to your desk, completely silent. We were the condemned, standing awkwardly for our classmates to watch; we waited for our punishment. A chair was placed in the front of the classroom; one at a time and in the order that the names had been read from the list, each student would walk to that chair, bend over, and grab the seat of the chair. What came next were three good swings of the paddle, but there were rules to that as well.
You could not move, flinch, or whimper; any excessive movement or crying would result in another swat, and believe me that three was enough, you really didn't want any more. For three years , that was a pretty steady routine of mine; until I was made of stone. I could stand there like a statue, and not show an ounce of pain or emotion; I could take it like a man.
Today, there are many that would condemn this type of training, and there are some that would applaud it; I have chosen to simply learn from it. It was what it was, and it is a part of me. But, for a young boy that could barely sit still, whose mind was constantly racing and seemed to be connected directly to his mouth; well, those years left a lasting impression - haha. One thing, however, was clear; even at that young age, I was expected to be perfect. The standard of perfection was set very high, so high that no one could actually achieve it; but no one could bring themselves to admit that either. It ultimately led to a choice; realize that you could never live up to such expectations and accept the shame, or put on the mask of religion and pretend to be perfect.
As a young boy, I wanted so badly to please everyone and be accepted; but I knew that I was not perfect, so I chose my mask. I would have to be stronger, more disciplined, unbreakable; if you haven't already guessed it, at the least, you should not be surprised. Only one person was strong enough to never cry, to never break, to never give up; and as silly as it sounds now, I told myself that if only I were Batman then I could be what they wanted me to be.
Now as fate would have it, in the third grade I left that school for another. Our church had started a small elementary school, and my mom was a teacher there. Everyone knew me, and it was a little more relaxed atmosphere. They had this new thing called "recess", it was wonderful. I got to run and play and burn off that extra energy that always seemed to get the better of me. At the end of the day, however, I was still me; and that moment of the chair, the principal, and myself, found me at this school once again. What happened next was as humorous as it was tragic, let me try to retell the tale.
There were no public spankings at the front of the classroom in this school, but you did get sent to the principal's office if the occasion called for it; and being me, I'm sure that this particular occasion called for it. The next part I was very familiar with,
I was told to grab the chair and so I did.
I looked forward and the first swat came, no problem.
There was a slightly longer pause than what I was used to, but then came number two.
Just the right amount of sting, hey this guy knows what he is doing; one more to go.
This pause was even longer, I started to wonder should I dare to turn around, was it done?
I almost flinched, but then came number three.
Oh yeah, this guy knows what he is doing; I've got the tingly's going on now.
I turned to look over my shoulder and get my, you can go now nod.
Nothing.
This is weird, I did my part right; so what is this?
Oh well, one more it would seem... WOW! that had some fire on it.
Surely we are done now.
I turned to look at him and our eyes locked.
He was looking for something, and I was not going to give it to him. I was in Batman mode, the cape and the cowl were secure and I was unbreakable, I would not disgrace myself by crying out.
He gestured for me to grab the chair again, and so I did.
I don't want to lie, I don't remember how many more came after that; but I do remember thinking that I was wrong. This school was worse and it was going to be a very long year.
But there was something that I did not know about this man. He had a much different perspective than what I had been previously exposed to; and it was his belief that until there were tears, the child was not truly sorry or repentent of his transgressions.
Unbeknownst to me, there was a conversation that occurred later that day between my principal and my mother that went something like this:
Your son was sent to my office this morning.
-And how did that go?
Honestly, I have never seen anything like it and I am a little concerned.
-What do you mean?
There was no emotion, no sign of giving in, I have never seen anything like it.
-Oh God, I should have told you. That is how he was taught to respond at his previous school, let me explain...
My principal was not terrible person, and he did feel quite bad about that experience. I did not know about his conversation with my mother at that time, but I did notice that I never had an experience with him like that ever again. At the worst, when I was sent to the office, I might get one swat and he would send me back to class; nothing that I couldn't handle. You could say that one misunderstanding paved the way for a much smoother year, lol.
In the efforts to create a "perfect" child, discipline is considered the cornerstone; and spanking is often one of the central supports. But if left unbalanced, without love and compassion, tenderness and forgiveness; it often results in anything but a perfect child.
As a father, spanking was and is one the hardest things that I had to reconcile with my upbringing. I do believe in the scriptures, and I do believe that you will ruin a child without the presence of discipline in their life; but that made it no easier for me to do.
I remember the first time that I had to spank my son, not a quick tap on the fanny; but a "you are being punished" spanking. I was fighting so many emotions, that for some reason I bit tongue through the whole process. I bit down so hard that I was almost sure that I must have broke the skin and would be bleeding, I am pretty sure that it did hurt me more than it hurt him.
In truth, I have always bitten my tongue when disciplining my children, which honestly is not that often. But I never really took notice, or thought about it much until last year. I remember thinking, why do I always bite my tongue; so I began to pray about it. The Lord's answer came to me in two parts; this is what He told me.
First, you bite your tongue so that you will not speak in anger, or say words that will damage in ways that you would regret.
Second, whenever you have struck something or someone in anger or frustration; anytime that you have lost control in blind rage your teeth were always clenched. As you were taught to do, like a fighter you would lock your jaw as you clenched your fists. You cannot lock your jaw if you are biting on your own tongue, it is the bridle that keeps you in control.
It was humbling.
Humbling to know that I was so messed up, that I needed such a crutch; but comforting to know that God had made a way, even when I had not realized it. Because I had always asked for His help, and He was faithful to give it.
But why bring all of this up, what is the purpose of spending so much time in the past?
Recently I have found myself in the place where my strength can no longer help me, the place where what I know can no longer guide me to where I must go. Exhausted I finally turned to the Lord and asked, "What do I do?"
He responded. "CRY OUT TO ME."
What surprised me was that I could not do it.
Many of you have watched my journey for the last year and a half. I have been praised for my strength and my faith, in the face of the heart attack and cancer I was unshakable. But what I must confess, and did not even realize was that I relied more on my strength than anything else. Most of my life, but particularly the past ten years, I have sought to know God and His ways. I have studied and I have prayed, and it was sincere; but sometimes you can wear the mask for so long that you no longer see your true identity, you no longer see the mask in the mirror.
Ten years of preparation gave me the strength to be Batman for one year, and I was perfect. I took whatever was thrown at me and I did not flinch, I held on to the chair and I was unbreakable. I fought for my health, I went to the gym, I encouraged others, I was an inspiration, maybe even a superhero; but then something else began to happen. I began to weaken again, the harder that I pushed the more that it hurt; but I told God that I could handle it, I would not be moved. Then Norma had to face cancer and I felt helpless, I did not have enough strength for her too; I began to crack. The more I tried, the more my strength was depleting; but I still wanted to be perfect, resenting that I knew I was not.
Again I asked God for the strength to continue, and his response was the same; CRY OUT TO ME, but I refused to cry still.
In my distress I called upon the LORD; to my God I cried for help. From his temple he heard my voice, and my cry to him reached his ears. Psalm 18:6
As a father, I know my children. I know their personalities, their quirks and their qualities. I know what will bring them happiness and I care when they are hurting. There have been times throughout the years, when it was "too quiet" in the house. I would call their name as I looked for them, and I would eventually find them in their room softly crying. There was lots of hugs and kisses and comfort, assuring them that all would be alright.
But I also know their cry. Nothing gets in my way, when I hear "that cry" for help; time stops and nothing else matters until they are safely in my arms. Whatever has happened can be dealt with, it's a matter of presence.
Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need. Hebrews 4:16
Religion is the mask that alters our perception of God's perfection.
I did not know how to approach the throne of grace because I never recognized it. Jesus sits on the throne of grace, we think of it as a golden throne; but in truth , it is an ancient Roman whipping post. It was the determination of grace that held him there, and his mercy is that he took our stripes so that we might be healed.
I realized that I could not cry out to the throne, because I was bracing for the post; ready to silently endure my stripes, instead of freely receiving his mercy. The whipping post only becomes a throne when you see Jesus sitting upon it; you have to take off your mask to recognize it, when you hide behind religion you are hidden from the truth.
Behind our masks we only see an altered reflection of the truth; but God asks that we come to the altar, to remove the mask and reveal a new nature, a living spirit, a reflection of His perfection.
For weeks I knew what I had to do, and it terrified me.
So, on a cold and windy Sunday night, I went out to the beach on Lake Michigan in November; because I didn't want anyone to see me, I didn't want my family to think that I had lost my mind. I stood in the dark, and let the crashing waves hide the volume of my cry; I cried to God,
"WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME!.... please help me."
I simply cried out for my Dad to come and find me, to hold me and tell me that He was there.
I had no heavenly visions that night, Jesus did not appear to me walking across the water; but a weight was lifted. A little boy, who still wore a mask, no longer felt the burden of trying to be perfect; and he walked away, leaving the mask behind.
How do you recognize perfection?
Does it need to be announced so that you will not overlook it, or does it simply captivate you the moment that you enter into it's presence?
I searched the "I Am's" of God, and He does not declare, "I AM PERFECT".
He does not have to, we just recognize it.
So why do we insist that we must be perfect, why do we spend so much time and effort trying to convince others that we are?
When you know what God says about himself, you will see what your reflection should be.
"I AM who I AM" Exodus 3:14 (NKJV)
"I am Alpha and Omega" (Jesus) Revelation 1:8 (NKJV)
"I am from above" (Jesus) John 8:23 (NKJV)
"I am God Almighty" Genesis 17:1 (NKJV)
"I am he" John 18:5 (NKJV)
"I am he who comforts you" Isaiah 51:12 (NKJV)
"I am holy" 1Peter 1:16 (NKJV)
"I am the door" (Jesus) John 10:9 (NKJV)
"I am the door of the sheep" (Jesus) John 10:7 (NKJV)
"I am the good shepherd" (Jesus) John 10:11 (NKJV)
"I am the light of the world" (Jesus) John 9:5 (NKJV)
"I am the bread of life" (Jesus) John 6:48 (NKJV)
"I am the LORD, and there is no other" Isaiah 45:5 (NKJV)
"I am the LORD who heals you" Exodus 15:26 (NKJV)
"I am the LORD who makes all things" Isaiah 44:24 (NKJV)
"I am the LORD, the God of all flesh" Jeremiah 32:27 (NKJV)
"I am the LORD your God who divided the sea" Isaiah 51:15 (NKJV)
"I am the LORD your God who teaches you to profit'' Isaiah 48:17 (NKJV)
"I am the LORD exercising loving-kindness, judgment, and righteousness" Jeremiah 9:24 (NKJV)
"I am the LORD, your Holy One" Isaiah 43:15 (NKJV)
"I am the resurrection, and the life" (Jesus) John 11:25 (NKJV)
"I am the root and offspring of David" (Jesus) Revelation 22:16 (NKJV)
"I am the Son of God" (Jesus) John 10:36 (NKJV)
"I am the vine" (Jesus) John 15:5 (NKJV)
"I am the way, the truth, and the life" (Jesus) John 14:6 (NKJV)
"I am their inheritance" Ezekiel 44:28 (NKJV)
"I am their possession" Ezekiel 44:28 (NKJV)
"I am your exceedingly great reward" Genesis 15:1 (NKJV)
"I am your portion and your inheritance" Number 18:20 (NKJV)
"I am you salvation" Psalm 35:3 (NKJV)
"I am your shield" Genesis 15:1 (NKJV)
"I am with you" Acts 18:10 (NKJV)
"I am with you to deliver you" Jeremiah 1:8 (NKJV)
"I am with you to save you" Jeremiah 30:11(NKJV)
