Know-Love-Obey God

For the High Calling Blogs book club (2nd post):
Made to Stick: Why Some Ideas Survive and Others Die,
by Chip Heath and Dan Heath
Laura Boggess leads our discussion on chapter two.

I remember high school. Life was predictable: the first bell rang at 7:57; I knew to expect Physics for 2nd period, Accounting for 5th, and chicken nuggets for lunch every third Wednesday. The lunch quad was separated into big, square planters, each containing a single big tree. My “group” sat at the same planter each lunchtime and recess, and, likewise, at every other planter sat the same set of friends. Show choir practice was at 3:30.

I was remembering high school again last Sunday as we filled a van and two Suburbans with junior high and high school students to drive an hour and a half north. We went to visit the Columbine Memorial in Littleton, Colorado.

I walked the path up the hill to stand above the memorial, where thirteen plaques listed thirteen names and described the thirteen people whose lives ended in gunfire.

The location of the tragedy: Columbine High School, where a school day is supposed to be predictable ritual, bells marking the beginnings and ends of classes, students emptying and filling lockers, school athletes running to the fields for practice.

The school library is supposed to be a quiet place for study and resources. But on that day at the CHS library came the utterly unexpected: Gunshots. Threats. Hatred. Blood. Death.

But not only those things. The unexpected shock also brought to the surface bravery, love, faith, life change for many.

This happened on April 20, 1999. On that day, my oldest child was not yet a year old. Here at this memorial, he is the newest member of our youth group. Eleven years later, he learns, and he remembers.

We read of each life taken. These students were just like us. This school was just like any other school.

The unexpected bared the hearts and spirits of students, families, the community—bared their hearts to the core. At the Columbine Memorial, I saw the refining, and I saw how some came out of the fire purified, good as gold. I saw how they responded.

Yes, this unexpected got our attention. Certainly, it stuck.

I climb the path up a hill and look down on the memorial. I see the results of a day shaken violently, and my spirit rocks like their world was rocked that day.

I turn around to look behind me and see CHS, where it happened eleven years ago.

Afterwards, we sit on the grass, a circle of thoughtful, sober spirits contemplating together, processing together. What am I doing with my life, each day of my life? What would a plaque about me say? What is my faith, and what line do I need to cross to take it a step further? How would I have responded if I had been there? How do I respond to the challenges that are part of my life, now?

We load the van and SUVs again and head home. I remember the day but wonder, will we remember a few months from now? Will we remember next week? And I pray.

Father, don’t let us stay where we are. Move us, challenge us closer to Christlikeness, deeper in love with Christ. Help us remember that visit to the Columbine Memorial. Throughout the year, give us grace and courage to help one another into growth. We don’t want to remain unchanged. Teach us to number our days and live each one intentionally, that we may ultimately present to You a heart of wisdom.