Lay down Sally, Rest here in my arms

You cannot fully appreciate the phrases “utter hopelessness” or the “depths of despair” until you’ve watched a flustered sixth grader stare into the soulless black eye of their very first combination lock.  “Why?”, their defeated little souls cry out as they drown in a sea of lined index cards, 3” 3-ring binders, and unsharpened number two pencils, “Why has life suddenly lost its meaning?! Why am I powerless to this contraption whose impenetrable complexity must surely rival that of Ft. Knox?  And who in the world thought it wise to go PAST the second number the first time around . . . WHAT does that even mean?!”.  

We’ll call her Sally because there just aren’t enough of those anymore.  My heart must have seen her there in the hallway seconds before my eyes registered her presence.  If ever there was a casting call for the part of “eager 6^th grader”, Sally nailed it from the humongous bookbag that made her look a bit like a turtle right down to her brand-new tennis shoes with the scuff-free white soles.  She had the tip of her tongue clenched between her teeth in utter and complete concentration as she tried for what was probably the 742^nd time to gain access to her locker.  She couldn’t have been more appreciative when I stopped and offered to help, and was all smiles as she ran off to her next class – in the complete wrong direction.

That was Monday.  I didn’t think of Sally again until Wednesday when I saw her there in the hallway once again bravely doing battle with her locker.  This time, however, something was different.  Sally wasn’t standing quite as tall, her face wasn’t quite as determined, and – now, I might have imagined this part – her tennis shoes weren’t quite as shiny.  When she saw me stop next to her, her eyes met mine, and her sweet face crumpled.  “This is hard, and I’m tired of trying.  I’m just, I’m just tired.”  She turned back to the lock and was surprised when I put my hand over it.  I think she expected me to open it for her and looked so very confused when I made no move to do so.  I left my hand where it was and asked if there was anything that she needed from inside her locker at that very moment.  When we’d determined that she, in fact, had all that she needed for her next class, I kept my hand firmly over the lock and said, “I know it’s hard and it’s ok to be tired. I also know that you CAN do this.  It doesn’t feel like it right this minute, but you can and you will.  But for now?   Just leave it.  You’ll come back and try again later.  For now, just leave it.”

“This is hard, and I’m tired of trying.  I’m just, I’m just tired.”  And it was, and she was, and life is, and sometimes we all are. I’m not sure exactly when it became unacceptable to just admit that we’re tired.  Of course, there is something to be said for perseverance and pushing through, but sometimes we are just plain tired of being all that we can be and just doing it and going the extra mile and reaching for those darn stars.  You won’t hear it from Tony Robbins nor find it on a canvas at the Hobby Lobby, but some days mediocre is absolutely beautiful, and enough is just that – it’s totally, completely and absolutely enough.  And on those days when the most positive, life-giving affirmation that we can drum up to whisper to ourselves before falling asleep is, “at least we didn’t have to use the fire extinguisher and the dog’s diarrhea seems to have stopped” . . . well, some days that’s just enough.  Sometimes we’ve turned that lock just as many times as we can stand to turn it, and we just need to walk away.  Yes, we CAN do it.  But for now?  For now, we just need to leave it. 

I find myself asking so often these days “what is wrong with this world of ours?”.  And you know what I think?  I think the author of the Christmas song was on to something.  We ARE a “weary world”.  We’re all just trying so hard to open our lockers, and sometimes it is hard, and we are just so tired.  SO, since it is the season of “Classroom Rules”, THIS is what I would post on the world’s bulletin board if I could:

Rules to Remedy a Weary World

1.  Notice

Look up from your phone and just notice.  Notice the lady whose hands are full and rush ahead to open the door for her just to be nice.  Notice that the seemingly incompetent driver’s license plate is from out-of-state and let them over because they really don’t know where they are going. Notice when a child remembers to use their manners.  Notice when the sky is the most beautiful blue that you’ve ever seen.  Notice lightening bugs that flicker in your backyard.  We miss so much joy simply because we fail to notice.  If we were meant to wear blinders, we’d be horses.  Peripheral vision is a gift; use it.

2.  Find Rest

“Come to Me all you who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”  It’s one of my favorites.  What a beautiful gift to offer someone . . . rest.  Not just sleep, but rest.  In my mind’s eye I picture a loving Daddy God calling us into His lap where we can just be still.  Jesus knew that the reality of our lives wouldn’t always look exactly like our FaceBook posts.  He knew that sometimes life would be hard and that we would just be tired.  He didn’t offer to fix it for us or shame us into working harder or focusing on the positive.  He simply offered sweet rest.  Admitting that we’re tired doesn’t make us any less thankful, grateful, or blessed.  Sometimes we just need to walk away from our locker.  Sometimes we just need to lay it down and leave it for now.  Sometimes we just need to rest.  And that is so absolutely ok.

3.  Speak kindness and affirmation into others

Last week a dear, sweet lady made an effort to pour kindness all over me with a compliment that my heart needed to hear at that very moment.  She had absolutely no way of knowing that I needed it nor did she have anything to gain by making the effort, but we both walked away from the exchange standing a little bit taller just because she spoke kindness.  Did you notice someone’s new outfit?  Tell them!  Is he sporting a new haircut?  Mention it!  Does someone make you smile just because they exist in this world?  Words of affirmation are a love language in which we can all be fluent. 

4.  Dance with them when they feel like dancing

I remember when the children were small, we celebrated EVERYTHING.  She rolled over – cheer like crazy people.  He used the potty – make up a ridiculous song and sing it in a conga line around the bathroom.  As adults we are so terribly quick to point out failures; if only we were so eager to celebrate successes.  Football players dance in the end zone; we too should celebrate every single one of life’s touchdowns with that same level of enthusiasm.  Nab the closest parking place in the Kroger parking lot?  You jump out of that car, spike that ball, and flap those knees, my friend.  I’ll be right there, dancing with you.

On Thursday I happened to walk by at the exact moment that Sally opened her locker ON THE VERY FIRST TRY.  Our eyes met, and we smiled.  Neither one of us wanted to endanger Sally's cool points, but in our minds?  Oh MAN did we dance!