the easy road

“In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.” John 16:33

It has been a rough week in Lake Woebegone. First it warms up enough to give one sweet dreams of daffodils and forsythia in bloom while robins bounce about in full play. Then it snows and drives us indoors where we gather around the wood stove to radiate in its warmth. The Democrats are rejoicing in the great stimulus package while Republicans continue to forecast impending doom. Hollywood’s millionaires convened and celebrated a movie about the slums of India, all at a very safe distance. A good friend pulled from out of nowhere the news he was fighting cancer but with such grace and quietude that it left me rejoicing in the peace that comes only from above. I watched with intense interest a student whose anxious anticipation betrayed a hard fought fight for an “all A’s” report card only to learn later that she missed it by one point. I listened with uncomfortable anguish as a parent poured out the pain of a heart broken at the moral failings of her child while I could only offer a lame, “We can work through this” in return. I read my first-ever poll of teacher feelings (everybody gets to evaluate them yet they never get a voice) and learned with shock and awe that I had feet of clay (surprise, surprise) as well as a collection of halos.

The sweet and sour forever follow us in a dance that always seems to leave the two closely entangled or never out of short reach of one another. Even one day can bring forth laughter and tears, joy and sorrow, ease and pain in mixed procession that can leave us, at times, gasping for breath at the roller coaster effect emanating from the highs and lows. I have often said that being administrator of CFC is the best job I have ever had. After this week, I still readily confess that to be true even though I might add that it is also the toughest. But I still remember very keenly the years I spent in relative ease making far too much money for what was demanded. I would not go back for anything. The dullness of that unchallenged life was stultifying beyond measure: a slow death that drains the heart from a man one day at a time.

How is it then that we find ease and luxury repellent and on the other hand, we can find in hard experiences like the Peace Corps, “the toughest job we will ever love?” Strange, but true. It is in the striving that we find the sweet solace of accomplishment, it is in the strain of the harness that we find fulfillment, and it is in the uphill climb we find the satisfaction of lofty views. The heat of battle is what calls forth the best of us and bids us offer that heroic last measure. But the pain of truths we find hard to face, the grind of long days that tire both flesh and spirit, the sting of rebuke from friend or foe, and the disappointment of efforts fallen short are hard to bear. Yet in the reaching we are stretched. In the storm, we are pruned. And in straining against the rock-face of resistance, we grow strong.

I hear quite often the groans of parents as they pour forth effort after effort to bend young lives towards a fruitful and productive future. I hear the frustrations of teachers who struggle against the fallen nature of man and child and suffer the slings and arrows of adolescent thoughtlessness. I see struggling students who cannot hide the tears when faced with demands that seem oh, so impossible. It is all part of the work of redemption, taking that which is broken and making it whole. We shun the broad road for the narrow path. We die daily as we pick up our cross; pilgrims searching for the Promised Land. It is only our enemy who offers us beds of selfish ease; a deadly snare for the unwary. Resistance is our reassurance we are on the right path. Faint not, for in due season we shall reap.