hope is always

Since I started substitute teaching a few months ago, I've heard a lot of interesting things come out of students' mouths. Most of which is followed by me saying, "Under no circumstance is it ever appropriate to use that word to describe anyone or anything."

You can use your own creativity to fill in the blanks. On second thought, maybe you shouldn't. Anyway, I'm sure your imagination would fall far short of what they can conjure up.

So, you can understand my surprise when I heard something that grabbed my heart. In a good way.

In a recent class discussion about a short story, middle school students were describing the mood created by the author. One soft spoken, shaggy haired kid offered this assessment: "The story is tense, scary and dangerous all the way through. But even though you feel afraid, hope is always present."

And there it is.

bailouts, ben harper, and a better way

Rollin' down the street (makes me think of a snoop/dre classic, circa mid 90's) this morning, listening to npr ('as was his custom'). Much of the talk swirling around the current economic crisis, and the so-called bailout bill that the Senate passed with all of the enthusiasm of a kid downing a spoonful of doctor's orders. Closing eyes, holding nose.

Needing a break from the bailout, I turn on some music, via the handy "oh just surprise me" shuffle list. Enter Ben Harper- who strikes me as part pirate, part prophet- singing about a better way...

What good is a man who won't take a stand / What good is a Senate with no better plan / But I believe in a better way.
Reality is sharp, cuts like a knife / Everyone I know is in the fight of their lives / But I believe in a better way.

This post is not an indictment of our leaders. Nor is it intended to be political commentary.
It's a reminder of what is bigger. And better.
Here's to the Better Way. And to The Pioneer who paved it, drawing us in behind Him.

fac et spera

While in Charleston this summer, we stepped into a cool little antique shop. You know, the kind of the place that is so high end that you instantly discover you have no right to even make direct eye contact with any of the furniture, much less look at the price tag and pretend you aren’t calculating how many months’ worth of rent that armoire would set you back. But it’s too late now, because you are already inside, and the awkwardness of having the shop owner look upon you with disgust is slightly better than immediately admitting defeat, apologizing for the mistake and backing out the door. Yeah. That kind of place.

At the front of the shop sat a sculpture that caught my eye. It was a young man with a bag of seeds slung over his shoulder. His arm was stretched out and reaching back, as if he were sowing the seeds, flinging them out over the soil. On the base was an inscription: FAC ET SPERA.

The shop owner saw me eyeing the piece and walked over. Surprisingly, she didn’t ask me to leave. Instead, she smiled and warmly explained, “Work and Hope.”

FAC ET SPERA: Work and Hope. What a fitting inscription. The seed is sown and watered by the sweat of the planter’s brow. But the harvest is out of his hands.