There's so much good stuff going on right now and I want to report it ALL and give God some glory for what He's doing in our lives. But I rarely feel like I have time to do it justice. Like our day yesterday at West Morris St. Free Methodist Church in Indy. What a great day ... I'll have to tell you about it later. And another great meeting tonight with a couple from our small group. Later...
And sprinkled in the midst of all the good stuff is some frustrating stuff. We have been without our Kia Sedona for an entire month now. Literally. When I talked to the mechanic today, he reported that he now believes the timing chain slipped and the engine is locked up for good. The vehicle is not worth a $2,000 repair, so not sure what to do next. Thankfully, a couple from small group had loaned us a truck a week and a half ago, but we need to return it - we didn't plan on holding onto it for so long.
For tonight, I'll take the easy route and copy and paste the article I wrote for the local paper and which appeared today. It's about Indiana's new Indoor Air Quality policy for public school buildings. It's a bit more sarcastic than anything else I've written for a while. Here it is:
I'm breaking the law.
Well, not a law exactly, but a state policy. And it's not intentional; I'm jut a bit slow to comply.
You see, I have a couch in my classroom. And a puppet.
I know, I know: it's reckless and completely irresponsible, but rest assured that I will remove them before my students' learning is further impeded or, God forbid, someone dies.
In my defense, I had never really given much thought to the fact that my cloth-covered furniture and stuffed animals could introduce "dust mites, harmful bacteria, fungus and mold" into my classroom. Thank goodness the EPA is on the ball; they have helped shape the new Indiana Air Quality Policy for public schools.
Before anyone takes offense, I should explain that I am not ignorant of asthma, how easily it can be triggered and how serious and even life-threatening the effects can be. I even have some firsthand knowledge of it. And I understand that sometimes buildings do, in fact, harbor chemicals, mold and other toxins which can affect the health of occupants. The target of my sarcasm here is not the (rare) victim of poor air quality, but the all-knowing, ever-reaching government watchdogs and bureaucrats and their fixes. Alongside any actual solutions, when the politicians start cranking out regulations, we are bound to get the following:
1. Extra work. For example, the new policy dictates that each school system must create its own rules governing how long vehicles are allowed to idle in a school parking lot. Some employee will then be responsible for enforcing those rules forevermore. What does that look like? Someone who spends a half hour every morning and afternoon roaming the parking lots with a stopwatch?
This new state policy also technically allows cloth-covered furniture and stuffed animals to remain in the classroom, as long as the school has a rule dictating the method and frequency of their cleaning. My system's decision makers opted to simply ban such items rather than create the extra work. I can't blame them.
2. Over reaching. When the state inspector comes knocking, he will obviously be checking for evidence of mold and for proper levels of CO2. That's all well and proper. But what other parts of the policy might he enforce? How about making sure that "interior toilet rooms are no colder than 60 degrees Fahrenheit? It's in the policy. They will also be checking to see that no "furred, feathered, or reptilian animals" are present for anything but "educational purposes." And my favorite: "Fish in aquariums ... must be of a reasonable size and quantity." Are we to anticipate a forthcoming addendum precisely defining the "reasonable size" of a goldfish?
3. A (false) sense that with the right regulations in place we can make our world 100% safe and comfortable for all. Where should the line be drawn for classroom air quality? We can do away with the couch, the air fresheners (also contraband) and stuffed animals, but what about chalk dust? What about teenage girls swimming in perfume and smelly lotions? What about the occasional junior high boy who has not yet discovered the necessity of daily showers and deodorant?
I believe we have local media to thank, in part, for spurring this new state policy. A government panel tasked with studying the air quality of school buildings sat idle for several years. Then, about a year ago, speaking of CO2, WTHR breathlessly reported it had "discovered an invisible problem in classrooms all across Indiana. You can't see it or smell it. You can't taste it or touch it. But it's there -- sometimes far more than it should be - and it can impact students' healthy and education." The panel finally got to work.
We tend to forget that the urgent tone of such reports may be indirectly proportional to the actual size of the problem but directly proportional to the necessity of selling commercial time for the broadcast.
Despite my grumblings here, I will comply with the new policy, of course. What choice do I have? I think I will keep my puppet in place, though, sealed inside a clear plastic bag as a silent protest against bureaucracy. The couch is going; it was a leftover prop from our fall drama, a prop which I have been slow in returning to its proper owner.
And I had only just recently discovered how comfortable it was for lunchtime naps. What a shame.
Post Script:
I didn't have the space or time to delve deeper into this cultural habit of obsessing over safety - and the spiritual implications of this obsession - in the newspaper, but it sure does get under my skin. Is it just me?
A few years ago, a mentally ill man got ahold of a gun and shot up some innocent bystanders and some police officers in Indianapolis. I remember a sheriff soon afterwards addressing the media and promising the public that law enforcement would be "working hard to make sure something like this will never happen again".
What? How exactly do you hope to ensure that in the future any person suffering from mental illness will be unable to access a loaded gun?
But that's the reassurance Americans seem to want after some tragedy: someone will make sure it never happens again!
Life simply isn't safe. If you think about it, we are incredibly fragile beings. Where exactly are we 100% safe? At home? The storms that rolled through here last night could have produced a tornado capable of wiping this house off the planet. A week and a half ago, my friend was murdered in her own home, a few blocks from where I grew up. In our car? A split second decision by some other driver to answer a text message could start a chain reaction that ends with my death. (I didn't say that other driver was a teenager - that is stereotyping.) On the sidewalk? A heart attack could drop me to the ground without warning.
Some friends and family have expressed fear that by moving to Haiti, Melissa and I are endangering our lives and the lives of our children. It's possible. I have considered that and I know that there are no guarantees that just because you follow where God calls you, everything will be safe and sanitary and comfortable. I have come to terms with that truth. But I also know that in a VERY REAL sense, I will be endangering our lives tomorrow morning as we drive 30 minutes to school in the dark. (Especially if I don't get to sleep soon!)
The only ultimate safety is to be in the center of God's will. Like you, I don't know when my heart will contract for that final beat. It may be tomorrow or 40 years from now. I'm old enough to know now that whatever time I have left, I want to serve Jesus. And anytime I choose to say to Him, "I will go this far in following You and no further" THEN I am on unsafe ground.
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