Two types of people exist in this world - those who easily dispose of junk mail - toss it minutes after they hit the door from the trip to the mailbox - and those who cling to every coupon, every catalog, every card, letting the pile on the kitchen counter grow greater each day like a promise of brighter things to come.
Don’t mock me. You know exactly which one you are! You categorized yourself the moment you read my classifications. And yes, I confess, I am a catalog hoarder. I have the same Frontgate catalog with four different covers currently taking up residence next to the napkins. But I dare not throw them away! Something might be on sale one cent less than the catalog before. I might miss a great bargain on a garden gnome I never knew I needed or a classically punny t-shirt from Bits N Pieces!
Usually every week or so my husband hands me a pile that is “mine,” and I reluctantly trudge toward the waste basket, willing myself to toss the mess, but wait? Don’t we have recycling now? And the pile grows…
Maybe this is why I am not a gold medal winner. In my mind, gold medal winners are my first type of mail personality. They are decisive. They throw all junk from their lives immediately. Quick to pull the trigger on all unnecessary detritus. Focused. Driven. Disciplined.
But maybe there is a third category catalog hoarder who wanna be the decisive Olympian? I go through spurts. Weeks pass where I value tossing aside the unwanted junk instantaneously. Valiantly ignoring each enticing nugget - the shiny covers, the beautiful pictures, until that one item I’ve never seen before catches my eye, and I don’t have the time to look, so I put it on the counter to examine later. And the cycle begins again. The catalogs begin to pile and mock me for weeks as a reminder I am not focused or driven or disciplined or quick to pull the trigger.
Olympians are elite. Extremely few actually exist. There’s a reason for that. The practice - the strength - the will power - the consistency.
This Olympic season seemed to differ from the past. Who foresaw a global pandemic? I assume people uttered the exact same sentiment about world wars and great depressions. What really created the downside to these games for me proved to be the capacity for every person who owns a phone to think they are smart because isn’t this device in fact called a SmartPhone?
This device a person can hold in her hand contains more computing capacity than an Apollo rocket. However, what I have grown to discover is that simply because a person can Google a fact doesn’t actually impart any wisdom. Our current culture seems to be running amuck with access to a whole lot of information and very little common sense. Armchair quarterbacking reaches new heights. Everybody seems to think they are an expert about everything and very free with their opinions (You could even point out that Everybody in the above sentence requires a singular pronoun - everybody seems to think he/she - Did I make a grammar error? Or did I choose to use they in order to remain gender neutral? Is that even acceptable now? Grammar!)
Here’s the problem with being a catalog hoarder. When you’re a catalog hoarder, you are also a social media reader. You can’t quickly scroll. You peruse. You stroll. You gander and actually take the time to read the endless droning of your 1999 friends because you may miss something important - something interesting - a nugget of truth. And it takes its toll. Just like the growing stack of mail on the counter - until you have to pitch it all in the garbage.
The things I’ve read over the last month about the Olympic athletes. Words from the mouths of people I know. Shared by people I respect. Easy to blast steam here or click a share there. But I raised an elite athlete. I’ve dipped a toe on that other side. I remember the first phone call when a random stranger direct messaged my baby, and what he asked for, and my innocent, naïve
child didn’t understand. I also know after three years how desensitized she’s become to the vile requests - her armor grown thick and heavy. I've watched how she’s been coached as to what foods she can and cannot eat while in uniform because you never know who may snap a pic. How she’s learned to forcefully and respectfully reposition a wandering hand during a photo op. The drunks who have stained her uniform with alcohol and the opponents who have stained her mind with slurs. I’ve seen her leered at because she’s beautiful and spit upon because she wears purple and gold - rarely seen as human but a public persona to be objectified or vilified depending on the fan’s whim. Everyone wants that 30 seconds of fame, but I honestly wonder how many delicate flowers could really handle the glaring spotlight?
So what brings me to the computer today with all these musings? The 12 inch stack of junk sitting on the counter because I’ve been very busy helping the child who wears crimson and white. The professional now. Flown south. A permanent resident of The Sunshine State. What a privilege to assist her in establishing her very own classroom. Ready to mold a new generation. Hopefully imparting her limitless common sense. Growing some stronger saplings. You see - she throws away the junk mail.
We labored cleaning and laughed when we unearthed files from 1990. I vacuumed as she developed her QR codes for her class procedures and collaborated with her fine arts department regarding their TEAMS meetings for their parents for the upcoming school year. (I silently lifted up a prayer of thanks to God I was not the one to be lesson planning.) Later, as we enjoyed a meal at one of our favorite restaurants with a castle and fireworks as our ambiance (when daddies treat their little girls like princesses, they grow up to understand just how royal they truly are), we talked about all the changes I experienced over my teaching career. Her jaw actually went slack with the realization that at one time I averaged grades by hand! We speculated what changes she might see over her career. But we also discussed all the horrible things we’ve been reading on social media lately, and she says, “Mom, why do you bother reading all that negativity? Why do you let all that in your life?” Yes, she throws away the junk mail.
And just like that - the child becomes the teacher.
As the world piles its junk higher and higher with more conflict and confusion, you have a choice what type of person you are going to be. Are you going to add to the junk pile or are you going to be a
God Medal Winner
Will you flash the quick response. Rattle off the opinion. Give into the social media hype. Or will you stay focused on the poor in spirit. Be driven to be humble and merciful. Be disciplined to hunger and thirst for righteousness.
And the best part is God Medal Winners have the most amazing coach EVER. The hard work has already been done. All you have to do is recall, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.” Matthew 11: 28-30 NLT
Praise God we don’t have to be elite. He desires for all to know Him. Our only practice is to worship Him with strength, will power, and consistency. And when we fail, he welcomes us right back to practice, no questions asked.
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