Junior High

As is custom, I went to Madison Middle school today to sit with students from N-HYM youth ministry while they ate lunch. I go to Madison because I work with junior high boys and Madison has the greatest concentration of junior high boys in our group–I can connect with more of them with one visit. Over time, more than our kids join us at the table. Now some of their friends do, too, which is the real point in me going.

Seventh grade lunch is more fun every time. Anthony, Zach (and his long list of “best” friends), and Emily (and her constantly changing list of friends) all sit and have casual conversation. Lately, I’ve noticed the guys can be identified as belonging to one of two groups: the goofy, dorky kids who like to punch each other, horseplay, and other such rowdy behavior; and the boys who will talk, and behave like they have one topic on their mind all the time: sex. When I was in junior high, I belonged to the second group. Everything had a double-meaning.

Emily’s friend was throwing ice at Zach’s friend. He got the ice and threw it back at Emily’s friend. It went down her shirt.  Zach then said in a dorky voice, “I’ll get it.” He wasn’t serious, but it was funny. Then later, two boys toward the end of the bench were horse-playing–punching, tickling each other, and so on. It was a little less self-concsious that I was at that age. I made the comment to Zach that his two friends were touching each other. He then asked the two boys, in that same goofy voice, “Which way do you lean?”

I busted out laughing. One of the coaches whose duty it is to maintain order on the patio during lunch came over and told the boys to calm down. (No wonder our kids are so hyper-charged. They are forced to sit quietly 7 hours a day. Whatever happened to recess and playing at lunch?)

If this trend continues, I’ll have to have lunch with the boys one week and girls the next. But it really was a hoot.

Observations at Starbucks

I have the day off today so I went to Starbucks to enjoy a pastry and coffee as I read and studied the Bible. It was still early, so I ordered a cream cheese danish before they were marked out. I debated my drink choice, but settled on a venti Americano. Of all the years I’ve frequented quality coffee shops, I’ve never had an Americano until lately. Now, I’m hooked.

I sat at the bar adjacent to the barista zone, internally exulting the goodness of Colossians, a cream cheese danish, and Americano. Two middle-aged ladies walked in oozing pretension. They were dressed in a manner indicating that they shopped at the good malls with the good stores in the Metroplex, not little Abilene, as if bestowing great privilege upon common folk–sort of wanna-be celebrity. They talked so as to make a show of their presence. Upon receiving their highly-customized drinks, they sat down and continued their conversation. A steady stream of other women, younger and older,  came in to order drinks to go. These two women seemed to know every one of the others and engaged them in more hollow conversations. It all seemed so….well…phony. The whole scene seemed so contrived and shallow. I’ve met friends at Starbucks and never have put on the show these women did.

I was uncomfortable. But my discomfort had more to do with my own conviction. In my self-righteousness, I silently judged them as self-centered and self-indulgent. My silent self-centeredness was no better than their loud self-centeredness.

Point taken, Father.