Catching Coons

     It's unusual that a passage from a children's book would get the attention of this teacher in the middle of a regular school day, but it happened.  It spoke to me in such a way that five months later I am writing about it.  The words on the page jumped right out of the book and seared my unexpecting heart.  It was a precursor to a summer of many hard learned, must need lessons.
     From Where the Red Fern Grows,  Grandpa is giving instructions to Billy on building a raccoon trap:
"Now you do everything exactly as I tell you," he said,"and you'll catch that coon."
"Yes, sir, Grandpa," I said, " I will. I'll do anything to catch one of them."
"Now the first thing you'll need is some bright objects," he said. "The best thing is bright shiny tin. Cut out some little round pieces, a little smaller than this bit.  Do you understand?"
I nodded my head.
"Now," he said, "you go down along the river where there are a lot of coon tracks. Find a good solid log close by and bore a hole down about six inches. Drop one of the bright pieces of tin down in the hole, and be sure it's laying right on the bottom."
I was all ears, I didn't want to miss one word my grandfather said.  Now and then I would 
glance at him to see if he was kidding me.
In a serious voice, he went on talking. "Now pay close attention," he said, " because this is the main part of the trap."
With eyes as big as a hoot owl's, I looked and listened.
He took four of the horseshoe nails from the sack.  With the thumb and forefinger of his left hand he made a small "o" about the size of the bit, which was an inch and half in diameter.
"Now we'll say this is the hole you bored in the log," he said. " About an inch apart, drive these nails in on a slant opposite each other."
Holding one of the nails in his right hand, he showed me the right angle.
"The ends of the nail will enter the hole about halfway between the top and the piece of tin, " he continued.  "Leave an opening big enough for a coon to get his paw through." ..........
" How is that going to catch a coon, Grandpa?" I asked.
"It'll catch him all right," he said, " and it won't fail. You see a coon is a curious little animal.  Anything that is bright and shiny will attract him.  He will reach in and pick it up.  When his paw closes on the bright object it balls up, and when he starts to pull it from the hole, the sharp ends of the nails will gouge into his paw and he's caught."........
It was all looking pretty good to me and I was on point of saying so, when it hit me.  Why all the coon had to do was open his paw, drop the object, and he was free.
I stepped back and almost cried as I said, " Grandpa, you're kidding me. That kind of trap couldn't catch a coon. Why all he'd have to do is open his paw, drop the piece of tin, and he could pull it from the hole."........
" I just wanted to see if you we're smart enough to see there was a way for the coon to free himself.".......
" When I was a boy I had a pet coon.  By watching him, I saw and learned a lot of things.".......
  " My mother had an old churn.  It was one of those kind with a small hole in the lid for the dasher.  When she would get through churning, she would take the dasher out to wash it.  That crazy  coon would climb up to the top of the churn, poke his little front paw through the hole, and get a fistful of butter. The hole was small, and when he closed his paw, he couldn't get it back out.  All he had to do was open it, drop the butter, and he would be free, but do you think he would?  No, sir.  He would carry that churn lid all over the house, squalling and growling.  Why, it took everyone in the house to free him.  I'd have to wrap him up in a gunny sack or an old coat and pry his claws loose from the butter.  Seeing this time after time is what gave me the idea for this trap.  Once he reaches in and gets hold of that tin, he's caught, because he will never open his paw."
     The Word says we are like sheep. I'm convinced that we are a lot like coons, too.  Year after year,
I drag my churn around, squalling and growling, because I refuse to open my fist and let go.  It is
such a simple act, opening our hands.  But, we stiffen our neck and tighten our grip.. Everyone we know can try to pry our hands loose, but it takes the harshness of God's gunny sack to free us.  We, I, listen to the father of lies rather than the truth of the Word and hold on for dear life.  Rather it be the easy way or the hard way, our  hands must be pried away from the butter.  We are coons to the core.
     John 8:31-36 reads: So Jesus was saying to those Jews who had believed Him, " If you continue in My word, then you are truly disciples of Mine; and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free."  They answered Him, " We are Abraham's descendants and have never yet been enslaved to anyone; how is it that you say, ' You will become free'?"  Jesus answered them, " Truly, truly, I say to you, everyone who commits sin is the slave to sin.  The slave does not remain in the [God's] house
forever, the son does remain forever.  So, if the son makes you free, you will be free indeed."
      Christ makes it clear how we become trapped like the coon with his hand in the butter churn.  Simply stated, it's sin.  We could all immediately list off our vices, our pieces of shiny tin.  I have mine. You have yours.  That said, what about someone else's sin? Does it have you trapped by your own sin of unforgiveness?  How often do we think to ourselves, That hurt, and I'm not letting it go because I won't let it happen, again.  I'm not going to talk about it, look at it, or think about it. I'll stiffen my upper lip, pick up, and move on.  I'm going to just forget about it.
     I love what Wesley writes about the Jews in this passage.  They state, " [We] have never yet been enslaved...."  Wesley points out that at that very moment they were enslaved by the Romans.  They had spent so much time enslaved that they had forgotten what it was to be free.  These Jews were a bit delusional! Crazy, right? Oh, but ladies, how long have we carried around that hurt and unforgiveness, day after day, until we believe we are free when we are still in bondage?  It becomes easier to lie to ourselves than to forgive, to dare to believe there is something better beyond the hurt.  We are going to hold that person accountable for what they have done to us.  All the while, we are dying inside.  It takes root and becomes part of our marrow, festering and poisoning.  It is only the Spirit of God who can free us and the confession of that unforgiving spirit, laying our heart on the
altar of God.
    John 8:31 says...."If you continue in My word, then you are truly disciples of Mine; and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you [spiritual liberty] free."  Christ promises to free us. No where in the passage does it state, You will be immediately freed.  The Word of God says, if you continue.  It's a process.  It is not a process marked by perfection. As believers, we face the struggle against our flesh, daily.  However, our life should be marked by a continuous desire to serve the One who first loved us.  MacArthur states, Real disciples are both learners ( love that!) and faithful followers.  If we follow Christ and learn the lessons he sets before us, we are promised freedom
      Christ is calling us into freedom.  Is it always an easy path? No.  Sometimes, we're like the Jews of Jesus' day.  We have been in bondage for so long, we are so upside down, we don't even know we are a slave to someone else's sins.  It takes the gunny sack to get our attention. But Christ, but Christ, but Christ, promises us freedom on the other side of the hurt....if only we'll open up our hand.  We can give him the hurt, and the anger, and the fear, and the disappointments.  He wants his children to be free, and if I don't know anything else, I know I don't want my hand in that old butter churn for one more day.

Opportunity

     My job can be discouraging.  There's no other way to say it. I work in a title I school as a fifth grade teacher. As I look over my class each year, I am fully aware that some of my boys may not make it to the age of thirty. They will die at the hand of someone else's pride. My girls will become teenage mothers, stuck in a vicious cycle, unable to climb out of the hole they have gotten themselves into. These are not statements of acceptance. Chains and strongholds can be broken, but for now, it is the reality of many of my students.
      I can only hope that I will be one of a multitude of pieces to a puzzle that will lead these students from a life with few choices to a life that is open to the largest of imaginations, the kind of life that seems unattainable on many days.  I keep my fingers crossed that something I will say will stick. I pray that a child will grab hold of what is true about themselves and carry it into adulthood. However, all too often, those truths slip away in the undertow of a life that is focused on mere survival and a skewed identity.
     But....every once in awhile, God reminds me that I am not the one at the helm, and I must stay the course that He has set before me.  One of those reminders came, today.  I was grocery shopping when I heard from behind me, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Paxton?"  I turned around and knew the face and name immediately. That's saying a lot.  After ten years of teaching in some form or fashion, it's not always a given that I will remember a name.  We'll just say he was one of those students that had an excellent way of making his presence known.
    I can remember thinking to myself during his year with me, I don't know about this one. He's smart, but he sure likes to get into trouble.  To be honest with you, it shocked me into almost being speechless that before me stood a respectful, well-spoken young man.  It was obvious that there had been some changes in his life.  It is my understanding that his mother worked more than one job to set this child up with opportunities that would be game changers.  It's working. I walked away saying to myself,  Yes! Yes! Yes! This one is going to make it!
     We exchanged some conversation.  He went his way. I went mine.  As I walked away, I thought,  What should I have really said to him?  What did I really want to say to him?  I wish I could have held him by the shoulders and said, "Do you realize the opportunity that your mother has given to you?  Do you understand that you have hit one of life's lotteries? Take it and run as hard as you can with it!  Even if what is happening around you is out of your comfort zone, embrace it. Learn from it.  You are on your way to a prize!"
      Oh, but what about myself? Spirit of God, convict me for forgetting the opportunities that Christ has laid before me; salvation, opened doors, relationships, talents, all of the graces of God and gifts of the Spirit. Do I squander these great gifts God has given me? I am redeemed by a God who has pulled me from the pit, and yet, I turn my back on Him when life becomes uncomfortable and unfamiliar.  I consider myself lost and disoriented only because I spend far too much time walking my own path rather than finding myself on His path running, crawling, face down, prostrate before my Father, looking for a glorious ending.  I fail to embrace and learn from each experience God has allowed to grace my life.  I lose focus of the prize. I forget it's real.
    The glorious ending, the prize, do I truly grasp the prize? I imagine Heaven. I hope there is a seashore and water that is pure and translucent,  far beyond anything we have ever experienced in this fallen world. I imagine my children running up and down that seashore, waving their hands frantically over their heads, waving me home, yelling, "Mom, mom, we're here! We've been waiting!"  Then, I want to wait there,  just a little while,  for the children that will come behind.  Waiting to dance. Dance to a music that this fleshly body could never hear nor understand. I want to dance on the shores of Heaven with my babies....
      But, what about this prize?  It is far less about the beauties of Heaven and far more about those that we will bring along with us.  Will I stand on the shore of Heaven to no avail? Waiting, waiting, waiting, only to realize that no one is coming, not my children, not my extended family, not my students, not my neighbors.  Will I stand before Christ with empty hands because I neglected the opportunities that He has given to me or because I failed to learn the hard lessons?   Will I stand on empty shores because I failed to show and invite others to the love of Christ, or worse, because I have acted as though Christ doesn't love me?
      My friend Leslie shared this on Facebook a few days ago. I was reminded of it when I began writing this blog, today.  It is from Anything, authored by Jennie Allen:
That night on the floor I told Him, " From this point on things are changing.  I am living for the moment when I will face you.  I want to get to Heaven out of  breath, having willingly done anything 
that you-God of the universe-ask......ANYTHING."  I had a constant nagging feeling that God was 
real and this life wasn't a game; it wasn't about my comfort or my curtains or how much everyone liked me or approved of me.  Heaven was coming, God's voice was clear, and I needed to quit pretending that everything was just lovely.
      I, too, want to get to Heaven breathless.  I want to take God up on every opportunity He provides. I pray that all His grace provides will fall from my hands into the hands of those around me.  I want those around me to know that I've hit Eternity's lottery and the abundance is to be shared.  It never runs dry. I even want to learn the uncomfortable lessons, the ones that make me more like Christ.  I want. I want. I want more then anything else in the whole wide world to dance on the shores of Heaven, and while I am dancing, to look across those translucent waters and see a familiar face, or two..