What makes me happy

People arguing.

Ok, not all people.  And definitely not all types of arguing.

I love listening to kids argue.  The type of arguing where learning is happening -- new facts are being acquired, hypotheses are tested, and what one believes to be sound and true is reexamined.  And even though all those things are happening within the conversation, to a casual observer and likely to the young people involved, the discourse seems like a regular run-of-the-mill discussion.

A couple examples:  Last week I attended a meeting during the 1st half of a school day where we talked (rather, were talked at) about establishing a better standards-based curriculum.  These are the types of discussions that I usually leave discouraged that I am not a better teacher--that I have not fulfilled what I would have described an excellent teacher to be after I was indoctrinated in my college coursework.  But as I was still shaking off that stupor of disappointment from the morning, I walked around my classroom while students worked on a pretty lame assignment I gave them and I heard disagreements taking place.  I was thrilled to hear students arguing about the math they were doing and even more thrilled that I didn't have to start the discussion for them nor provide the "answers" to finish it.

Another incident tonight made me realize even more how much I love to hear young minds squabble. I had stopped at a fast-ish food joint to get a late dinner and overheard a pair of early-elementary aged girls talking about what they hoped would happen when they put a second quarter into the gum-ball machine in which their first quarter resulted in a stuck gum ball.  I'll admit, the girls weren't exactly arguing.  They were pretty much in agreement.  But the were making speculations completely of their own accord and were set to test a hypotheses.  Maybe these two specific girls were not in disagreement, but this is the type of thing I hear young kids argue about all the time.  The key here is they were on their own.  No adult to tell them what would happen, or what to think, or what exactly they should really do.  Just pure, simple, discovery learning without the subjects knowing they are learning.

Sometimes I think adults try to be too civilized.  Rather than discuss our opposing viewpoints with coworkers over lunch, we bite our tongues as to not step on someone else's toes.  Granted, this is probably a natural reaction to having been caught in a past argument with someone whose passion for the conversation topic outweighed his respect for the opponent's dignity.  So maybe the problem is we are not civil enough, or that we cannot seem to let opposing viewpoints and amicable relationships coexist.  It really is too bad, because disagreements can be such wonderful and useful things.

lessons in loss

Make it your ambition to lead a quiet life, to mind your own business and to work with your hands, just as we told you, so that your daily life may win the respect of outsiders and so that you will not be dependent on anybody.

      1 Thessalonians 4:11-12

This is the first part of the passage read at my uncle Gerry's funeral service.  I had read these words before and had taken them to heart, but when I heard them in that particular context I was deeply moved.  My reaction, given the circumstances, was to cry [more], but through the tears I felt encouraged.  I'm not sure that I can name anyone else I've known personally who lived a life as close to what is described in those verses as Uncle Gerry.


Prior to a couple weeks ago, I knew my uncle was a quiet man who often kept to himself.  I also knew how much love and joy he exuded when he spent time with family, especially his nieces and nephew.  But it wasn't until person after person came through the church last Monday, offered their condolences, and said "your uncle was such a kind man" that I realized the same positive impact Gerry had on me was felt by everyone else he interacted with.


And those who knew what Gerry did in his day to day life, and had been doing for the past 40+ years, knew he was a hard worker who didn't complain.  Despite many years of pain in his knees and joints on top of the grueling work that maintaining a farm can be even when everything is going well, Gerry "led a quiet life."  As people gathered to mourn his passing and celebrate his life, we now have proof that living such a life will "win the respect of outsiders."


I am very sad that my uncle is no longer with us on earth.  I am sad that I won't be able to spend more time with him and enjoy his unique take on life.  I am sad that my dad and brother have lost not only their brother, uncle, and business partner, but also their dear friend and rock of support of so many years.  But I am grateful for how much better my life has been because uncle Gerry lived down the road.  I am grateful for every birthday card, whether silly or sentimental. I am thankful that I have had a fan club of family members, cheering me through high school, college, starting a career, and buying a house.  I hope that I have learned from Gerry what it means to be part of a family.  I hope that I can find ways to quietly pour love into those around me.  And I look forward to someday having nieces and nephews of my own so that I can pass on what he has done for me.  And most of all, I hope to take Gerry's last months of life as a lesson on how to be submissive to God's plan for my life.  To not question God's providence and love, but with an attitude of servanthood learn to say, 'if that is where you need me to go, Lord, I will follow.'


I miss Gerry.  But he is so much a part of who I am, that he can never really be gone.  I take comfort in the fact that his faith in our God of redemption has brought him safe into God's presence.  Death is over for Gerry.  And someday, when I have completed the work God has for me to do on earth, death will be done for me, too.