Thursday, September 30, 2010

Cruising through Life

I usually play by the rules, and until fairly recently, wouldn’t even cut the tags off of new pillows. This is not to say I’m perfect. Just ask my husband, my kids, anyone I know, or a few policemen who have issued tickets to me.
Admittedly, I make tons of mistakes, but I try to learn from every one of them. One huge mistake I made almost three years ago has been stuck in my head all week.
It was December 2007. Michael wanted the two of us to go to Hawaii. The thought of spending so much money while the kids stayed home left me with more guilt than I was willing to carry, so he booked a cruise for the family.
At the time, I was teaching, helping to prepare students for our annual musical, and frantically buying Christmas gifts. I was anxious to sail away on December 26; however, my daily schedule left little time to think about the cruise, or read the packet of information regarding our trip. This is my feeble attempt to explain why Victoria almost missed the boat. Literally.
Passports were not yet required to cruise to Mexico. My three oldest children had driver’s licenses, and Elise had an identification card. I didn’t bother getting one for Victoria. She was only thirteen, my baby, and I had never been asked to produce her birth certificate, although I carried every time we flew. I decided no one would question her. Obviously, I had not yet met the lady at the cruise terminal.
One by one, she checked our tickets and identification, then turned to Victoria. I verbally verified that the girl standing before her was Victoria Michel, my child, my baby, too young, I thought, to require additional identification. When asked about her birth certificate, (the one required according to the information I received, but never read) I assured her that Victoria did indeed have one, but it was at home, three hours away. (Oh, did I mention we were cruising out of Mobile, Alabama?) I don’t even remember the rest of our conversation. I just kept talking and talking until the lady said, “Go on, but I don’t think they’ll let you on the ship.”
As we stood in line to board the boat, Michael gave me the look I know so well. It’s the one I get when we are in the middle of an argument, right before he says, “I’m sending you to law school.”
I calmly explained our situation to the next lady, and was told, “You can board, but I don’t know what you’re going to do in Mexico.” Mexico! I had forgotten about Mexico! This was my first time out of the country. The closest I had ever been to the border was Taco Bell. As soon as we were settled in our rooms, I called my sister, who went to my house, found Victoria’s birth certificate, had it notarized, and faxed it to the ship. The document provided Victoria’s name, age, citizenship, and the fact that she is my child. So much information for one little piece of paper. Once I had Victoria’s birth certificate, I traveled in confidence, knowing I could produce her identification upon request.
Documentation is not a new idea. The apostle Paul rejected the need for letters of recommendation, asserting he needed no such letters to authenticate his authority. (I could have used his help at the cruise terminal.)Rather, he said, the lives of the people to whom he ministered were enough confirmation of his ministry. I like The Message version of his words in 2 Corinthians 3:2-3, “You yourselves are all the endorsement we need. Your very lives are a letter that anyone can read by just looking at you. Christ himself wrote it-not with ink, but with God’s living Spirit; not chiseled into stone, but carved into human lives- and we publish it.”
I wonder what the letter of my life reads. Do my words and deeds indicate I am a child of God? Does my response to the actions of others, and situations outside of my control, show a maturity in Christ? Am I storing up treasures in Heaven, or more focused on accumulating stuff on earth? Can I travel this journey, in confidence, knowing my life publishes all of the really important information about me? These questions challenge me daily.
And speaking of challenges, I’m now faced with a packet of information about a class trip Victoria wants to take to France. I’m reading every single word of it.
Ronny may be reached at rmichel@rtconline.com.

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