Santa and Adulthood

We didn’t do Santa in my family.  Both of my parents believed when they were children, but they made the together decision to avoid the Santa tradition with my brother and me.  Whenever I tell people that, it’s always kind of funny to watch the reactions.  Most people just do a little double take and say, "Really?" and then that’s the end of it.  But some people really seem upset by this, as though my childhood was somehow blighted by the loss of this Christmas tradition.  When I used to teach high school, I even had a student ask me once: "Wait…did you still get presents?"  People so clearly connect their own memories of Santa with the spirit of Christmas that the idea of no Santa perhaps makes it difficult for them to understand how a person could enjoy Christmas without that fairy tale as a backdrop.

Because I never believed in Santa, I also never had to go through the horror-inducing experience of either (a) figuring out there was no Santa or (b) having to be told that there was no Santa.  I’ve heard countless stories from former students and good friends about the unceremonious way this particular life Bandaid was ripped off, and it can be an amusing topic at a cocktail party or on a first date because almost everyone has a story to share.  The memory is a collective one, despite the fact that each individual has their own version.  Even I, who didn’t go through the experience, have a story.  My uncle, my dad’s brother, was so upset when he found out there was no Santa Claus that he went to his 2^nd grade class the next day and during Show and Tell, said to his whole class: "I don’t have anything to show, but I can tell you there’s no Santa Claus."

What I find interesting about these stories, which are partially hilarious and also a little sad, is this: something that brings people so much joy for so many years eventually becomes something that changes the nature and feeling of Christmas for the rest of their lives.  It’s the two sides of Santa.  My students used to tell me (and I trusted them, as they were not all that removed from the truth-unveiling experience) that there was a marked difference between Christmas pre-finding-out-about Santa and the Christmases that followed that traumatizing news.  And I don’t use the word "traumatizing" lightly.  There is an "everything that came before" and "everything that came after" nature to finding out there is no Santa.  It’s a watermark for most people’s childhoods—one, albeit, that most people move past rather swiftly but one that becomes an obvious line between childhood and all that comes afterward.

And whenever I’ve pushed a little beyond the story itself to find out why this childhood experience is so upsetting, what I’ve heard over and over is that some of the magic of what it means to be a child dies when the belief in Santa dies.  Currently, I hear my friends who are parents say things like "I just want my daughter to believe for one more year—I want her to retain the magic of childhood as long as possible" or "My son asked me yesterday if Santa was real, and so I told him the truth, but I also told him that now he gets to be a keeper of the magic with me and his dad and he will get to create that magic for his younger siblings."  Santa Claus is deeply connected to imagination and fantasy, two things that we struggle to maintain as we age, and I hear parents wanting to preserve that aspect of childhood for as long as possible, especially as the world around us seems to become more and more hostile to innocence.

I’ve been thinking a lot about adulthood lately.  I’ve known for many years now that I’d like to write a book about being an adult, and as I’ve transitioned post-moving back from Indiana, while I haven’t had as much time for my own writing as I would like, I’ve been able to do lots of thinking, note-taking, and voice memo-ing on my phone about topics I’d like to cover or ways I might structure what I have to say.  And I find myself talking about the overarching topic of adulthood with people of all ages—both people I know and people I’ve just met.  Everyone seems to have a story about how adulthood has not looked the way they thought it would or how much harder it is to be an adult than they ever expected.  Just as the how-I-found-out-there-is-no-Santa narrative is universal, so is the why-did-no-one-tell-me-adulthood-would-be-this-hard narrative.

What I hear behind these stories about the loss of Santa is quite similar to what is simmering under the surface of the stories about of the perils of adulthood: disappointment.  Disappointment that things aren’t as simple or as magical as we'd hoped.  Disappointment over the loss of certain dreams.  Disappointment in the harshness of reality.  Disappointment in life as a whole.  Just straight-up disappointment all over the place.

However, while people seem quite willing to share their Santa stories, I sense an unwillingness to share adulthood disappointment stories in tangible ways.  My experience has been that people are verbally open about their frustrations with adult life (the casual "Yeah, me too" conversation we all are capable of), but I don’t see great evidence of this truth-telling on social media or in the public eye.  We’ve become those mothers and fathers who know for a fact that their children no longer believe in Santa and refuse to yield to the reality, carefully making powdered sugar footprints and snowy rooftop hoof prints in an attempt to convince themselves that their children still believe and the magic is still intact.  The effort, exhausting and all-consuming, that goes into presenting this perfect façade for our lives means we miss out on the chance to see what’s real, to accept what is here, and to admit that, while we sometimes feel disappointed by the reality, all too often, reality is surprising and wonderful in ways we never could have predicted.  Finding out there is no Santa is disappointing, sure, but it’s a pit stop along the way of growing up, and there are many incredible things that happen along the way to compensate for the loss of Santa.

I’d like to see us turn adulthood into our High School Musical moment, where we say "we’re all in this together" and admit how hard this adult thing is and give each other the grace and space to embrace the mistakes, failures, and disappointments that come along with growing up.  Because that’s the reality—we are all still growing up.  Sure, biologically we’ve reached a point where we aren’t developing any longer.  But our hearts, our minds, and our perspectives are always open to growth, and unless we actively resist it, growth is always possible.  But growth is hard and confusing and takes effort, and I believe we’ve created this ideal picture of being a "grown up" that says, "Once you get here, things even out and get easier and you actually know what you’re doing."  This isn’t real.  It’s a lie.  And that message is a real joy-killer.  Because I don’t know about you, but being an adult is the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and I’ve struggled with feeling like a failure when I look around and see mess, chaos, confusion, and obstacles, not knowing that every adult on the planet, if they’re telling the truth, looks around and sees a similar landscape.

I’ve heard it said that some of the magic returns to Christmas once you have your own children—that seeing Christmas through their eyes is a wonderful reminder of how it felt to see the world as a place full of wonder, imagination, and belief.  I don’t know if there’s an equivalent for adulthood, a way to counterbalance the disappointment that pops up along the path we all are walking.  But I do know this: telling the truth about the ups and downs of adult life goes a long way toward making the path seem less isolating.

I’d like to write more about that—and I need to push myself to allow people to have access to what I write.  So, over the next month, my goal is to post fifteen times.  I welcome any and all feedback on my writing or on what I have to say.  And, more than anything, I hope that my words make you feel less alone.  We really are in the trenches together, if we only look to the left and right and acknowledge each other.

My Last Intercom Devotion

One of life’s greatest puzzles comes from answering the question “What do I want to do with my life?”  I know that for some of you, this question feels more pressing right now than it does for others.  But at some point, you will begin to really, truly ponder that question, and I’ll be honest---it can be a heavy question.   God has given us free will, which means we get to choose where we go in life and how we use this gift He has given us.  This freedom to choose is both wonderful and terrible.  Since I was a little girl, I’ve been the “I’ll do it myself” type.  Being able to make my own choices has always been a high priority for me.  However, sometimes I wish that I didn’t have to make my own choices because I worry about choosing the wrong thing.  As I have pondered my answer to that question---“What do I want to do with my life?”---I have often wondered if I was making the “right” choices or choosing the “right” path.  Because my life has taken a sizable number of twists and turns, I have felt, at times, that I must be on the wrong path.  People, in their attempt to encourage me, have said things like “Keep seeking God’s will for your life!” which has only made things worse, since phrases like that make it sound like wherever I am at in that moment is not in the will of God and that there is a specific set of choices that I need to make in order to be living in the will of God.

Some of you may already be feeling the pressure of these same ideas as you start to look toward choosing a college or career path or think about finding a spouse someday.  In my senior English classes, as we’ve discussed life, I’ve heard many students say things like “What if I choose the wrong person to marry?” and “How do I know if God wants me at one college over another?”  Underneath these questions is a very specific follow-up question to that first one I threw out.  Immediately after “What do I want to do with my life?” we ask “And what if I do it wrong?”

Here is what I want to tell you today: unless you are choosing between a sinful option and a non-sinful option, you cannot choose wrong.  Things like colleges and spouses and jobs and where to live...all of these choices have multiple answers and it’s simply up to you to make a choice.  There is not just one right way to walk the path of life, and that path doesn’t have one set of right choices which make your life a success.  God has given each and every one of you gifts and abilities that He wants you to use for His kingdom, to bring Him glory.  And if you spend your life worried that you aren’t on the correct path, you will miss the opportunities He has created along the way for you to put those gifts and abilities to good use.

There is a well-known set of verses in Ephesians that, if you grew up Lutheran or went through confirmation or have ever taken a theology class, you probably had to memorize at some point.  Ephesians 2:8-9 says this: “For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith---and this not from yourselves, it is a gift of God---not by works, so that no one can boast.”  Great verses.  Important message.  We cannot do anything to earn our own salvation, and the faith that we have been given is a gift from God Himself.  But I’ve always liked the verse that comes after these two.  Ephesians 2:10 says this: “For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.”  God, in His wisdom, picked out specific good works for each of us to do in our lifetime.  He prepared in advance to make those good works come about by creating each of us with certain skills and abilities and by setting each of us into certain circumstances.  Think about that!  You are the way you are for very specific reasons.  Nothing about you is an accident.  The family you were put into isn’t an accident.  The place you were born isn’t an accident.  Even the time in history you were born isn’t an accident.  You are alive here and now because God has good works that He has prepared for you to do in your life and He has given you all that you need in order to do those good works.

But here’s the thing---those opportunities for good works only seem like opportunities if you view your life as a path full of opportunities.  If you focus on life as a path full of possible wrong choices and continually ask yourself if you’re on the “right” path, pretty soon, you’re so focused on watching your own feet and on watching where you’re going that you miss out on everything around you.  Those good works that God has for you to do will still be accomplished, but your fear of what might go wrong will squelch out any joy that might come from serving God by simply being who He created you to be.

This topic is one that is near and dear to my heart, because, as I mentioned before, my path has taken a bit of a winding route.  I’ll be 34 this coming weekend, and in the 12 years since I graduated from college, I have lived in 3 states, have held 14 jobs, and have moved 8 times.  There have been many, many times that I have looked around at my life and felt like a failure and like there was no possible way I was doing the right thing given how bumpy the ride had been.  So often, when I have looked toward the future, I have felt sadness and fear about what might be coming down the pike.  But now that I’ve been walking for a little bit longer through this life, here’s something that I’ve finally been able to see clearly---when I look back on where I’ve been, I see how God has used my winding path to put me exactly where I needed to be at exactly the right moment.  My twists and turns have brought me to people and places who needed me and the specific set of gifts that I have.  Times when I have felt like there was no way I was even on a path and must be lost have brought me to situations where I was able to talk about Jesus and the freedom that comes from knowing Him.  Because that’s the thing, friends---freedom doesn’t come from being on the “right” path and feeling like you’re making the “right” life choices.  Freedom comes from knowing that no matter where you are, what your life looks like, or where your life takes you, Jesus has already taken care of the hardest part of the journey---He has made it so that you know the ending.  Your life path may be a straight line or it may be full of bends in the road, but your destination has already been determined because of what Jesus did on the cross.  God sent His Son so that you can know without a doubt that you will spend eternity with Him when this part of your journey is over.  And the Father has given the Holy Spirit to be with you and to live in your heart and to remind you of what is true on this side of eternity.  What’s true about life is what God wrote through Paul in Romans 8:28---“And we know that in all things, God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose.”  You have been called according to His purpose.  God will work for your good no matter what happens in your life.  You are not an accident, and your gifts are meant to be used in your life as you walk the path in front of you.  Walk that path with joy, knowing that you are loved and that you are never alone.

Dear Teenagers

It’s been a few years since I’ve been one of you, but I’ve worked with you for a while now.  It hasn’t always been in a classroom setting, but it has always been in settings where I can hear you talking.  And talk you do.  You talk about many things.  I hear much more than you realize I do.  Perhaps you wonder why I don’t choose to comment.  It’s because I know you’re at a place in life where you need to hear how things sound when you say them.  You need to try words on for size.  You need to see what kinds of reactions you get when you say particular things.  It isn’t much different than when a small child is playing with a shape sorter box and she tries the star shape in the oval, the rectangle, and the triangle in her quest to find the star slot.  This is a boundary-pushing activity.  When children are manipulating those different shapes, they are discovering what the shapes feel like, how they are constructed, and how they fit into the box.  Child development experts would encourage parents to provide their children with opportunities to try all those shapes in all the wrong box slots.  It’s by trying those different shapes that a child eventually learns how to master the toy.

For you all, I think words are like those stars.  Or rectangles.  Whatever.  Words are one of those shapes that you are trying to sort at this point in your life.  Like the shape sorter box, you try a couple different versions of what you’re thinking before you find the one that fits.  Many adults do not understand this, so they react immediately to whatever it is you’re saying.  I think you get a kick out of how quickly you can get a rise out of adults with your words.  Half the time, you don’t even mean them.  You just want to see what happens when you say them.  I believe this, too, is a boundary-pushing activity.  By blurting, whispering, and shouting, you are figuring out where those words fit in grown-up life.  I’m not sure how I learned this, but I’ve known it for a while.  So, I let you talk without much interruption.

But I do listen.  And this is what I hear.

I hear, more than anything, that you simply want to be heard.  You want to believe that your words have value and that what you’re saying matters to the people who are listening.  You know that you’re wrong sometimes.  In those moments, you still want the people around you to hear you and acknowledge you.  You want validation that you were trying and thinking, even if it wasn’t correct.

That isn’t all you want, though, because here’s the kicker: you also know that you’re right about some things.  And nothing is more infuriating than being ignored by someone older than you who is ignoring you to avoid admitting that you’re right.  I would guess that sometimes you stop communicating with adults simply because they have told you in one way or another that no matter what you say – right or wrong – your words don’t matter and won’t ever matter.

I hear that you want adults to trust that you can make choices for yourself.  You want to be able to have some autonomy and you want to make mistakes.  You don’t want to be held to a standard that you don’t feel you can reach.  You want to have freedom.  Freedom with your time, your choices, your mistakes, and your ideas.

Bubbling under the surface of your conversations, I hear that you wonder why adults can’t see you for what you are really capable of.  In fact, I wonder that sometimes, too.  As someone who works with you every day, I see flashes of brilliance.  In fact, I think your age group contains some of the funniest, smartest, most interesting people we have in society.  If more of you felt like you had a place to be heard, I believe there would be changes in the apathy levels that adults so often associate with your age group.  There is so much power in giving people your age a safe place to have thoughts and questions and ideas.  When you feel like you have some freedom to tell the truth, you do it.  And the results are usually astounding.

I love the fact that teenagers haven’t learned that adult filter quite yet.  While it can be infuriating some days, most of the time, the lack of filter means that you look at situations and can see them for what they are.  You can call bullshit from a mile away.  Probably even farther.  This is, perhaps, what causes so many adults to be out of sync with you.  They assume that you are oblivious to “the real world”.  They talk about you right in front of you and assume you can’t hear because you aren’t “real” or viable members of society.  Even worse, adults give you a place to speak, only to use what you say against you.  They act like they want to hear your thoughts and opinions, but really they are looking for ammunition to shoot you down and show you what “the real world” is actually like.  I’ve learned that you all will be whatever it is that is expected of you.  So, if we adults tell you that you have terrible attitudes, that’s what you will have.  If we tell you that you are lazy and can’t work hard, that is exactly what you will be.  You guys are like sponges.  You absorb whatever is happening around you, and then when someone squeezes you (metaphorically), you ooze out whatever it is you were taking in.  We adults soak you full of negativity and then get angry when you spew it back at us.

Your desire to learn and grow and absorb the world is a hallmark of being a teenager.  I would say that you are doing exactly what you should be doing at this time in your life.  Learning.  Growing.  Absorbing.  There is so much potential there.  And so much danger all at the same time.

Absorption is one of the hardest parts of working with (and loving) teenagers.  Because there is no formula for how to get teenagers to want to absorb the good stuff.  Because, despite their growing ability to see the gray of life, teenagers are still largely black-and-white thinkers.  Because 21^st century teenagers live in a world where they are expected to make adult decisions when they don’t have enough experience or foresight to make those decisions.  Because teenagers have to deal with the adult consequences of their adult choices when they are far, far, far from being adults.  Because teenagers resent being told they aren’t adults (even though they know they aren’t) and, therefore, often reject the advice and guidance of real adults in favor of going it alone.  Because teenagers often feel alone and misunderstood and try to compensate for those feelings with choices and substances and ideas that only make them more isolated (which, in turn, makes it harder for those of us who love them to reach them).

These conflicting factors are part of what makes you so confusing to people.  On the surface, this is what people hear from you…

I want to be heard.

I want to make my own choices.

I want to be treated with respect.

I want to make mistakes.

I want to try things I’ve never tried before.

I want to fall in love.

I want to be in relationships.

I want access to my friendships all the time.

I want to grow up.

I want to graduate.

I want to create a life that matters.

I want to get a job someday.

I want to get married and be a parent someday.

I want to have sex.

I want to have money.

I want to be in shape.

I want to be independent.

I want to feel less stressed.

I want to feel less tired.

I want to be out of my parents’ house.

I want to study less.

I want to have fun.

I want to go shopping.

I want to own expensive things.

I want to be attractive.

I want to be free of authority.

I want to avoid things like debt and bankruptcy.

I want to embrace being young.

I want to be an adult.

Adults hear this list and they know what kind of work it takes for these things to manifest themselves in a person’s life.  So they expect you to work hard to achieve those things.  When you don’t take the necessary steps to achieve the things on this list, adults judge you as they judge each other: if you say it but don’t do it, why should I believe what you say?  Again, many of them don’t realize that sometimes you say things to just hear how they sound.  At that point, though, the “damage” has been done.  By saying these things, you’ve created an expectation in the minds of the adults around you.  Even though they all went through what you’re going through, they’ve forgotten what it feels like to become an adult from scratch.  They’ve forgotten what it feels like to craft a life piece by piece.  Don’t blame them for this.  They’ve most likely put it out of their minds because it isn’t an easy process.  It hurts and it’s hard and it’s disappointing.  It makes sense that adults wouldn’t want to remember.  Someday, you may choose not to remember how this feels, too.

However, here’s the big issue with your words and actions being out of sync: people lose their patience pretty quickly.  Under the surface of all those “wants”, this is what seems to be lurking:

I want to be heard, even if I don’t communicate clearly or listen to the other side.

I want to make my own choices, but I don’t necessarily think that I should have to deal with the consequences of my choices.  I’m still learning, after all.

I want to be treated with respect, even if I don’t prove with my actions that I respect myself.

I want to make mistakes, and I deserve to because I am a teenager.

I want to make mistakes, but only the “fun” ones: sex, drinking, and drugs.

I want to try things I’ve never tried before, but I want to do that without feeling unsafe.

I want to fall in love, but I also want to hook up whenever I can.

I want to be in a relationship, but until then, I can do whatever I want.  I’ll still be relationship material.

I want access to my friendships all the time, and my social life is the most important thing to me.

I want to grow up, because growing up means having money and doing whatever you want.

I want to graduate, because my high school is so restrictive.  I’m over it.

I want to create a life for myself that matters, but I can do that later down the road.  That doesn’t mean I have to avoid things now that could possibly jack up my life.

I want to get a good job someday, but my choices now shouldn’t affect that.

I want to get married and be a parent someday, but that is still a ways away.  What happens now won’t affect that.  I can make a lifestyle out of giving parts of my heart away for free.

I want to have sex.  No one really talks about it.  But everyone my age is doing it, so it must not be a big deal.

I want to have money so I can buy the things I want to buy and go the places I want to go.  Money will make me happy.

I want to be in shape, but that’s a lot of work.

I want to be independent, but I don’t want the responsibility that comes along with that.

I want to feel less stressed, but time management skills and study skills are lame.

I want to feel less tired, but I want to stay awake and text my friends all night.

I want to be out of my parents’ house, but I still want them to pay for my life.

I want to study less, but I still want to go to a good college.

I want to have fun, but teenage fun is only defined a couple ways.

I want to go shopping and own expensive things because then I will be happy and important.

I want to be attractive by the world’s standards.

I want to be free from authority, because that is what it means to be an adult.
I want to avoid things like debt and bankruptcy, because those are “really bad” mistakes.

I want to embrace being young, because being young means being carefree.

Your words and your actions together communicate that you want to be adults.  Desperately.  But you want it on your own terms and you still aren’t sure what those terms actually are.  You want to be an adult in a vacuum—free from the constraints of morality, law, family, or society.

And any adult can tell you…that just isn’t how it works.

Every action that you take has a result.  Every.single.one.  Sometimes those results are really amazing, and you get what you want from a situation.  But sometimes, those results are not even close to what you hoped for, and then you have to decide how to deal with it.  That doesn’t always mean that a bad result occurred.  Disappointment can be just as difficult to deal with as disaster.  No matter the circumstances, though, you still have to make a choice.  One of the hardest things I’ve learned about growing up is that you don’t ever stop making choices.  Adulthood is a continuous string of choices.  When you are a child, there are mostly “good” choices and “bad” choices.  The older you get, the grayer those choices get (moral choices notwithstanding).  And sometimes you stare at two life choices, neither of which seems to be any good, but you realize that is what you’ve got to choose from.  In those instances, my mother would always say, “Would you rather be stabbed or shot?”  No fun.  Each choice changes and molds your life.  You may see that change right away, or it could be years down the road.  But count on it: choices = change.

This is why the choices that you’re making now are so important.  You are at a time in life when you are just beginning to make real choices that will affect your independent, adult future.  You are figuring out who you want to be and what you want your life to look like.  You are learning, growing, and absorbing.  I hear you saying that you want a good life, a healthy life, a happy life.  The future looks bright right now, and you’re running toward that light at full force.

And yet, so often, I see you robbing Peter to pay Paul.  You decide that what you want today is more important than what you want tomorrow because you’ve got time to fix tomorrow.  You chip a little bit off of tomorrow so that your today is more fun.  You tell yourself that you deserve to make mistakes today and not to worry, because you can still have what you want tomorrow.  You believe the lie that you can have it all: today, tomorrow, and eternity.

It makes those of us who love you want to throw up or weep uncontrollably.  Because while you say one thing, we hear another.  We hear the truth that you can’t possibly hear because you haven’t experienced enough life yet.  And that isn’t a dig at you.  It’s just the truth.  It’s the reality.  And reality can be scary, which is why growing up is scary.  You all want to grow up so badly, and you run after the parts of adulthood that you believe make you an adult.  But those are the parts of adulthood that have the power to ruin your life.  They can ruin your insides, your outsides, and your soul.  They can ruin your future relationships and your future jobs.  They can ruin your potential and your clear path.  They can devastate your life.  So in your quest to be a grown up and have fun like a grown up, you are setting yourself up to possibly never be able to become a real grown up.  I know people who are in their 30s and 40s who are still digging out of a hole they put themselves in when they were in their teens and 20s.  And it has stunted their growth.  That is what we hear you doing – embracing, really – and it is terrifying to those who love you.

In the end, you are striving to be something that will never exist: an adult who doesn’t have to deal with consequences.  You get angry when someone makes you face the music, and yet that is what being an adult so often means.  You say things like, “But we’re young!  And we are just trying to figure things out and make mistakes!”  Which may be true.  But then don’t ask to be treated like an adult.  You can’t have it both ways.  Either you want to be a grown up and treated like a grown up (and, therefore, deal with grown up consequences for your actions), or you want to be young and act like a young person and be seen and treated like a young person who still has many things left to learn (and, therefore, still needs adult guidance and direction).  I know that is a bitch of a choice, but welcome to adulthood.

You say you want to move forward.  To have many, many tomorrows.  You want to avoid having high school be the best four years of your life.  And yet you live like there is no tomorrow.  You make choices that could prevent you from moving past where you are right now.  You feel entitled to those choices because “you’re young” and because “you’re just making mistakes”.  This is why so many adults dismiss you.  Because you say one thing and live another.  You want to be an adult?  Then learn to take responsibility for your actions, your words, and your thoughts.    

In the end, you want to be treated like an adult and respected like an adult but you make choices that any respectable adult would not respect in another adult.  I believe being young has to do with how you feel and how you view life, not with what you’re doing at the time.  There is no set of decisions that makes you an adult in the same way that there is no set of decisions that makes you young.  But there is a set of decisions that could keep you from becoming the adult you want to be.  Or at least could keep you from getting there when you want to.

In the movie Dazed and Confused, two characters at a party come into conflict with each other.  They eventually fight with their fists, too, but first they fight with their words.  And one guy says to the other, “Come on man, don’t let your mouth write a check your butt can’t cash.”  I suppose that is what I’m trying to say to you today, except maybe a little differently:

Don’t let your choices write checks that your life can’t cash.

You are at a place in life when you are trying to figure out so many things about who you are now and who you want to be.  About what it looks, smells, tastes, sounds, and feels like to grow up.  Your senses are heightened because you are acutely aware of how your landscape is changing.  Anything that makes you feel something seems like an experience worth having.  But you can dull your senses and get to a place where you stop seeing, smelling, tasting, hearing, and feeling.  Where you believe that there is nothing left to see, smell, taste, hear, or feel.  An adult life without those senses is sure to be a disappointing life.  A dead life.  A life spent longing for the past.  You’re an adult for so much longer than you are a teenager.  Save something for the road.  I promise the journey is worth it.

Maybe this is the most important paragraph of all, which is why I’ve saved it for last.  I know you all well enough to know that you listen at the beginning and the end most closely.

While I’ve just challenged you to live to a better and higher standard, you should know that you will fail.  It’s guaranteed.  Please know that this doesn’t make you damaged goods.  It makes you human.  Our humanity is important.  Our God-given humanity is what allows us to see, smell, taste, hear, and feel the world around us and process it on a higher level.  We are not animals, living by instinct.  We are humans, processing and choosing.  Being human is a gift.  But being a human means we sin.  Every day.  We fall short of the standard God set for us over and over and over again.  God gave us the ability to make choices knowing that we would fail.  Because He is a wonderful God, a merciful God, He also made a plan for how to deal with our failure.  You may spend your teenage years writing all kinds of checks your life can’t cash.  Guess what?  God still loves you.  He still wants to be in a relationship with you.  He still sent His Son to die for you.  Nothing that you do or don’t do can ever separate you from the love God has for you in Christ Jesus.  Furthermore, God has promised that He will make all things work together for the good of those who love Him.  Even when you make choices that burn down your life (metaphorically, of course), God will be there, making beauty from your ashes and using your life, your experiences, and your gifts to bring glory to Him.

Love,

A teacher who sees a little and hears a lot and loves no matter what