First World Suffering

You know what DRIVES ME CRAZY?!  When my children (or my students) whine about something small and relatively unimportant.  

For example, near the end of the school year, I announced a pop quiz and immediately heard a chorus of moans and whines.  

"But Ms. Burwell...it's MAY."  

"Ms. Burwell, we just got done with an essay."  

"Ms. Burwell, I didn't get to do the reading because I had soccer practice."

I rolled my eyes.  I shouted, "OMG you snowflakes!  Grow up, buttercups!  Get over it.  You have food and clothes and education.  Isn't that enough??"

Ok, ok.  I did not actually say that.  But I thought it really loudly.

They were experiencing what I like to call "First World Suffering".  As critical as I feel when I hear others remark on how very hard things are, it may shock you, dear reader, to know that I am constantly experiencing first world suffering.  

Oh poor me, I really, really want a beach condo but we can't get one.  (In fact, we only get ONE little week at the beach this summer.  Such hardship!). I am so tired of these Birkenstocks...can't I get some new ones?  Chicken for dinner AGAIN?  I've run out of Netflix shows...whatever will I do?!  I have a new gray hair...where is the justice in the world?  AND, OH MY WORD, the internet went out again!  

I was literally writing a prayer in my journal today:  "Lord, help me to be content with our life in Johns Creek rather than always wishing that I could live at the beach."  And when I re-read what I wrote, I thought, I AM SUCH A BRAT.  God has given me a husband-of-my-dreams, 4 beautiful and healthy (and sometimes nice) children, a great house, the truest of friends, and a job that I adore.  And I am praying about the beach.  I am just embarrassed.  If Jesus were less loving, he would probably roll his eyes and call me a snowflake!  As it is, I imagine he might say, "I have given you all you need and many things you want.  I have covered your sins.  You are looking forward to a million years of eternal joy.  And you are mad that you can't go to the beach over the 4th of July??"

In second and third world nations, there are people so hungry that their bellies are swollen, people who are being trafficked and forced to do who knows what, people who are in danger when they leave their homes.  Even in first world US, there is real suffering.  One of my best friends is walking with her husband as he battles stage 4 cancer.  I bet she isn't worried about how many days this summer that her toes will (or will not) dig into the Gulf Coast sand.  She just wants her kids to get to keep their Dad for a few more years.  

Most of my "problems" are really not-at-all-suffering.  I am going to ask God to change me, so I can get over myself and come along those who are REALLY suffering.  Jesus, please fix my often-screwed-up perspective.  Clearly, I am not doing a good job of it by myself.

I'm a Poet--Did you know it?

 First, apologies for the blog title.  Sometimes I forget that I am writing to adults and not sixth graders.  You would not believe how many laughs I have gotten out of my middle school students by using that line!  

I do write a bit of poetry.  Mostly, I write fun poems to celebrate birthdays or other congratulatory occasions.  I have definitely written more than one "Ode To Troy Burwell"!  This past spring, I gave my sixth graders the assignment of writing a poem, and I have always promised them that I will do any and every assignment that I give them to do.  So, I did.  

I am going to be honest...I'm not that bad at it.  

I wrote from my heart.  I shared about a topic that we women (especially) often deal with--outer beauty--what is in the mirror.  I write it as if I could go back and speak to my teenaged self.  This is what I would say to her.

“Mirror Liturgy” 

 

How do I look? 

It’s my daily grief 

I bow down to the mirror god, 

My security thief 

 

I spend too much time here 

My hair, my face, my eyes 

The mirror god commands me, look better! 

A liturgy I’ve come to despise 

 

When will I be pretty? 

When will I grow up? 

I am anxious, afraid, and fettered 

Of what I will or won’t become. 

 

But today in the mirror, it’s different... 

it is me I see there-- 

Not the me of here and now

But the me of later years. 

 

She says, come close and listen well 

There are things that you must hear 

Truths for you to cling to 

Hope to keep near 

 

You are made to do good 

And created by design 

In your heart there are passions 

And places to shine 

 

Wait for your true love 

And all those children too! 

A home and all that you ever dreamed 

I promise... it’s coming soon. 

 

Right now, you don’t feel seen 

By anyone but you, 

In years to come you are beheld 

By a lover strong and true 

 

And children to adore,  

And babies to raise 

And students to teach, 

 And prayers to say 

 

Good fights to fight 

And mission to do  

These are the dreams  

That are waiting for you 

 

She smiles at me with pride 

Whispers a new liturgy in my ear: 

You beautiful girl, be strong and secure 

It only gets better from here!