Remember recess? It’s an old joke that’s new with every child the first time they’re asked by a sincere adult, “What’s your favorite class?” They cleverly answer, “Recess.” God forbid we should have any part of the school day that kid’s actually enjoy, so recess has been done away with. In it’s place is adult supervised, structured, and safe activity. In the minds of some current educators the term is akin to cursing. I’m convinced that this crop of educators who have killed recess are a collection of those to whom recess was torture. They were the ones in the corner of the playground. The ones who had an enemy who took full advantage of the free for all attitude of recess to unleash a 55 minute reign of terror.
The year is 1982 and I’m in the third grade at East Side Elementary in Marshall, MN. Mrs. Shultz (who bore a striking resemblance to the Hogan’s Heroes character of the same name) would direct us to, ‘walk until you get outside’ which meant that when we hit the door we were in another world. Kids scattered all over the asphalt playground and grassy field in a display of creative chaos, racing for the swings, heading for the see saw. During this hour each day, we learned to be a society. Governments were formed, alliances were created, enemies were avoided (or confronted), and an unwritten set of rules governed the world. Time was precious and so wasting it wasn’t an option. A game must be chosen and so on this day, kickball takes over the diamond. The athlete or the pretty girl has the red rubber ball and decides who the two captains will be. Some days a couple of equally ambitious popular kids are chosen and some days it’s a couple of equally inept and shy youngsters who don’t want to offend anybody. The choosing is a scary business as you waited for your name to be called. If you were called early it meant that you were in demand and expectations were high. You’d better not disappoint or your name might be called toward the back of the pack tomorrow. It didn’t matter who you were, you felt bad for the last kids chosen but you were glad that today it wasn’t you. Now positions are chosen and a lineup for kicker is determined. The whole process takes less than two minutes meaning that modern leaders could learn a thing or two about avoiding gridlock from kids who were determined not to waste time with paralysis by analysis.
My personal favorite was dodgeball in all of its primal violence. I remember like it was this morning, the dodgeball crowd was made up of the brave who bore the scars and scabs of tasting asphalt and picking it out of your knees and palms. The feeling of running the gauntlet between two sides who were throwing with the intent to kill, ducking under one and leaping over another before reaching the other side of the field without a scratch was intoxicating. My buddy Tanner had the accuracy and force to put an imprint in the side of your head if you weren’t watching. A cage rattling shot from a half inflated ball stung enough to make the nice kids cry. In the third grade, we had no time for girls, unless they played dodgeball. Erin Olsen, with her short brown hair, friendly smile, and new shoes, asked to play one day. We obliged. Erin hit the game with the grace and ferocity of a cute ninja. Watching to the left, she didn’t notice my shot from the right that took her legs out and she hit the ground with a crack. I ran out to make sure she was still alive and when she looked up blinking back tears, I looked at her face for the first time. I knew what she looked like before but now I really ‘saw’ her, and I fell in love. I was, after all responsible for her injury. It was a strange feeling that would lead to my first gift to a girl, an Erase a Mate pen (that had erasable ink). I ended up breaking my first heart at recess when I noticed the new girl, Holly. It was at recess that I learned that having two girlfriends at the same time is not a good thing. Is there a class in school that teaches that? I don’t think so.
Danger was a part of the world and it seemed that every day, somebody had a battle scar to show off. A black eye, goose egg on the forehead, ice pack on a wrist, or the common cut chin from not paying attention when walking by the swings. In the winter the snow would be piled up at the end of the playground in a mountain of ice that was about as exciting as Disneyland. Snow slides, king of the hill, and digging caves were activities that that snow pile would provide for a limited amount of time. As the sun warmed the land in spring, our precious mountain would shrink and so we learned to deal with disappointment and loss and the fact that new seasons bring some beautiful changes.
At recess, we learned things that sitting at a desk will never teach. We learned to laugh, organize, get along, deal with heartbreak and pain, create, survive, take care of ourselves and each other, build relationships, and enjoy life to the utmost.
Whether we like it or not, life is recess. God has let us loose on the playground, not to fend for ourselves, but to show us what is in us that we can’t see yet. It seems as though God believes in us more than we believe in ourselves or each other. Even though God calls us to grow, I wonder if we ever really grow up?

"And since you know you cannot see yourself,
so well as by reflection, I, your glass,
will modestly discover to yourself,
that of yourself which you yet know not of." William Shakespeare

Perception is an interesting thing. Physically speaking, I will never see my own face with my own eyes. I've seen my reflection in a mirror but that's a reversed image. I've seen myself on video and photograph but we all know that the camera adds about 35 lbs or so. Plainly put, I only think I know what I look like. What do others see when they see you? They certainly have an advantage physically for their eyes can see you in a way that your eyes cannot. So then we may be able to trust the perception of others and therefore if they are honest with us, they can describe what they see and our understanding of ourselves grows as a result. But in this day selfishness blinds our ability to do this effectively. When we look at another person and their eyes meet ours we usually judge their reaction and respond with, "What? Do I have something on my face?" So then we use their face as a mirror by which we judge whether or not we're accepted or rejected in their sight. Therein lies the self centered nature in us all. It's usually all about us and I'm no less guilty than you. Rare is the person who looks with the intent to discover the hidden treasure behind the windows of the soul to look past the stare of judgment, the shallow darkness of regret, or the face shadowed by shame, into the deep well of the spirit. To look and to see what we with our own eyes cannot see in ourselves. It seems as though God has made us to be less reliant on our own flawed perception of ourselves and instead to search for the gaze of one whose purity can see what we thought was lost forever. Perhaps Moses was asking too much when he asked God to look upon him for if no man can see God and live, what then would happen if fallen man invites the gaze of God to fall in his direction? Moses must have been thinking that he would rather die than live without grace in the eyes of God. So here's the simple conversation where Moses and God talk about the issue of perception and acceptance. Notice God's response and what He adds at the end. Wouldn't every person like to hear these words?

Exodus 33:16 For wherein shall it be known here that I and thy people have found grace in thy sight? Is it not in that Thou goest with us? So shall we be separated, I and thy people, from all the people that are upon the face of the earth.
17: And the LORD said unto Moses, I will do this thing also that thou hast spoken: for thou hast found grace in my sight, and I know thee by name.

Things in the present look a lot different when they eventually move into the past. It's funny how the death of something makes you see it differently. How the passing of time warps your perspective. How your memories tend to edit themselves until the picture you see in your mind of what 'was' is brighter or more colorful than it actually was? When I go out of town for a week or so, my children reduce in size to the place they were about three or four years ago. So then when I come home they look as though they have grown in the five days I've been gone. Of course they haven't, but this is how slowly we come to accept the changes that come to us. We're all a few years behind and our memories are sprinting to catch up.
Consider change. Conservative thought says that if you just leave a thing alone it will stay the same. Progressive thought accepts the fact that change is inevitable and in order to either maintain the status quo or move forward you must do something either way. It's like this. Suppose a man says, "As long as I leave my house and yard alone it will stay the same." We know this isn't true because paint wears and grass grows so in order for my home to stay the way I found it, I need to work to maintain it and that's not even progression. So then in order for your life to remain as it is now, there's some work involved and you can tire yourself out without even making progress. Since we're bound to work either way, why not progress toward a better end than where you are now? If I'm going to paint the house from time to time, I may change the color or buy better quality paint. If I notice something missing in an area I'll add it on and increase the value of it. Now consider your spiritual state of being. With the things of God, you are moving, as the Scriptures state, from glory to glory. So then God's desire for you is progressive and not to just leave you alone to decay. If we submit to the changes and opportunities He brings we stand a chance to grow but it we refuse to 'follow hard' after Him, our state of spiritual decay is our own doing, for change is a process to be embraced or an enemy to be hindered. Let the weeds grow under your feet if you like, but as for me, no way. Let me interject a thought here. Do you ever feel like your just waiting for endings? By that I mean that you feel as though however pleasant or pleasurable your present state, you're 'getting it over with' so that you can move on to the next thing? This is the danger of progression. That you begin to progress so rapidly that you fail to enjoy the reality of now. We reach for the future, we reach for the past, and no matter what we have we reach for more. Desperate to discover what is just beyond our grasp. I believe progression is futile unless you discover the joy in the journey. Let the satisfaction of the present exist but in a slightly weaker state than the anticipation of what's to come. While at times I've found myself satisfied with the present, the satisfaction has never overwhelmed my appetite of curiosity for the possibility of things to come. Among Jesus' final words to humanity were, "Behold (look) I make all things new." What new things does God have in store for you this year?