On being first and being vulnerable

Today I had to stop at a state police checkpoint on the way home. At one point, the front car in oncoming traffic required some follow-up checking, but the second car was cleared. Impatient, he pulled out, around the cop cars parked on the shoulder, and into the bar ditch so he could get on his merry way. The policemen were apparently undisturbed, but it gave me material for contemplation while I waited, as I’d given up wishing for better radio reception.

Why is it that our agenda is always the most important? This driver couldn’t wait two more minutes. His business was his priority! And I’ve had the feeling. In fact, last Friday in Albuquerque, I was so, so frustrated because all those other cars felt the need to be on the road at the same time I was. Who are they hurting?

ME! because I am important.

It starts early on. Look at my class. Everybody wants to be first. Every day, every time we line up, I have to announce the order or there WILL be a push and shove fight over who was in front of who. Now, maybe I can understand this when we line up for lunch, or even library, but I’m not sure how it helps on the way to an assembly or to switch classes, since seating is assigned once you get there. I certainly don’t understand why they so badly want to be in front when they’re on the way to a... um, disciplinary moment. Who wants to suffer first?

ME! because I am important.

We experience the “me first” complex as adults, though it manifests in different ways. It took me many months to accept that in Colombia, people were allowed to cut in front of me in the supermarket if they had fewer items than I. We not only want our business done first (although we do eventually figure out that suffering first may not be a privilege), we want the first attention of others put on us. That’s why anarchy doesn’t work. Your way and my way aren’t compatible. We can’t both be the popular one, the one in charge, the best. We’re bound to push and shove, because who should win?

ME! because I am important.

Because I’m important, it’s hard to admit the following, but... Although I’m not a fight to the front of the line person, I do want to have everyone’s best opinion. I have a competitive nature, apparently, or it wouldn’t bother me that I think the other grade-level teacher is really a better teacher than I am. It wouldn’t bother me that I’m never really assigned extra responsibilities (like I need them!). It wouldn’t bother me when as life goes on, people eventually stop answering my emails; it certainly wouldn’t bother me to realize that no matter what job I do, it can be done by someone else. I am not indispensable to God.

WAIT. It’s not ME?! I’m not that important????

And it wouldn't bother me that my EA distinctly prefers to help other teachers rather than be in my room. That's been an ongoing dilemma all year, as I've struggled to understand what I do to make her uncomfortable. We made some progress the other day, though. I had an incredibly embarrassing moment, from which she was a part of my rescue. All of a sudden, I was completely vulnerable in her hands. Now, it seems, she's opened up more to me.

Vulnerability. I feel vulnerable even writing this, which is why I have to do it. Vulnerability is completely the opposite of being first. It's being pushed out of line. It's letting others go first.... but vulnerability creates a moldable spirit. It doesn’t really sound like a good thing. Wouldn’t it be better to live by MY ideas, MY opinions, MY reactions than to be vulnerable to the world around me?

Maybe. Unless you take into account one other factor. The fact that there’s another option. I’m not the king of my world (so I don’t have to push and shove my way to the top), nor is the world the king of me (releasing me the slavery of being first in everyone’s opinion). The Creator is King. He is Redeemer King. True vulnerability works in the heart, creating readiness to live under this crown. Vulnerability to God’s standards creates virtue, the traits heralded throughout the centuries as strengths within a person. Taking responsibility for my own actions. Accepting correction. Doing what’s right without commendation. Patience. Diligence. Love, joy, goodness, gentleness... NONE of them are rooted in

ME! And how important I am.

Virtues are rooted in a wise King, who asks us to be vulnerable to His wisdom, to be vulnerable to the needs, NOT the opinions, of others.

I learn, again, from my students. I have several who have advanced beyond the class average. They work quickly and efficiently and are always done early. Most of them drive me crazy. “Miss Wells. Miss Wells. Miss Wells. What do I now? OK, I’m done. What do I do now? Miss Wells.” (Remember, it’s all about ME from infancy). I find mistakes and omissions in their work and run out of extra activities.

Then there’s "Bob."He’s vulnerable. He doesn’t really care about his scores, but when I asked him to make more effort because one score had dropped, he promptly brought it up, passing the base score. He really does not like it when I raise my voice to the class, often hiding his face. He cried for over an hour the one day I had to severely correct him.

But he’s such an easy student. Two grade levels ahead of most of the class in math and reading, he finishes his work in half the time and I rarely find mistakes. When he’s finished, he’s pretty content to pick up a book - except when he comes and asks, “Miss Wells, can I help people?” And he does help. He doesn’t giggle and chat and say “Write this answer.” He helps, doing his best to mimic what I do with the other kids. (Bless his heart, he is always seated between the behavior problems because he is the only one in class strong enough to withstand them, not being “bugged” or drawn in).

I use the word strong. How does that go with being vulnerable? Strength to deal with people and changing situations is based in vulnerability within the protection of an absolute. For "Bob," that absolute is his parents. For me, it must be God. Because being first and being vulnerable are not compatible. And He’s first, which only leaves me vulnerability.