We have a generational thread that at first glance may not seem so great. It's the "D" factor. But let me back up a little.
When I was in college I took an economics class that rocked my straight 'A' world. For the life of me, I couldn't process the micro or macro economic principles. Nothing connected and I was failing.
So, I did what any good college girl would do in this situation. I called my step Dad and pleaded my case for dropping this nightmare class. To which he replied, "No."
"Dad, it will ruin my average. It will ruin my life!"
"No, Lysa. If I let you drop this class, I would be doing you a terrible disservice. There are lessons that can only be learned when you're placed in the crucible of perseverance."
I may or may not have rolled my eyes, stomped my foot and growled out loud. "Dad! Why are you doing this to me?"
Dad went on to share about a class he took in Law School. He hated real estate law, begged his Dad to let him drop the class, was turned down by his Dad, and probably did a little foot stomping as well. He wound up barely making a "D" in the class.
And he became a real estate attorney who gets invited back to his law school to teach this very class.
"Dad, I'll never, ever teach economics, I can assure you."
But the decision had been made. I would have to stick out the class. I would have to work harder than I'd ever worked. And I would be grafted into the generational thread. The "D" factor.
This week I sat in the high school academic awards ceremony of my daughter's school. I knew the subjects for which she might have a shot at getting an award. One by one those awards were given out and Hope wasn't called. Towards the end of the ceremony, the math teacher stood up and walked on stage.
I knew Hope wasn't getting the Algebra award. She'd made good grades in this class during the first and last trimester, but the second trimester saw all things algebra fall apart. The generational thread wove it's way into my daughter's life. The "D" factor.
When the teacher got up to give the Academic Excellence Award for Algebra, he smiled and said with special permission from the school principal this year's award would be given to the student with perseverance over academic excellence.
Hope TerKeurst.
I seriously doubt Hope will ever develop a passion for or desire to teach algebra. But more than numbers and equations and functions too complicated for her mama's economics challenged brain, she learned how to persevere. And what a rare and beautiful quality that is in our give-up world today.
Sometimes we avoid challenge for fear of failure. If I'm honest, I think this is why I avoided trying to eat healthy for so long. I'd heard of people giving up sugar, breads, and starches and my first reaction was always, "I could never do that."
That wasn't a true statement. It wasn't any more true than me saying, "I can't do economics. " Or my Dad saying, "I can't do real estate law." Or my daughter saying, "I can't do algebra."
Those things may not come to us with ease and we may never do them perfectly, but we can persevere. We can do that.
And on the other side of perseverance is a victory sweeter than perfection. Perfection comes from strengths we knew we had. Perseverance comes from tapping into something inside us we're altogether surprised we had.
So, come on. Aren't you ready to be 'D'elightfully surprised? Persevere sweet sister. Be rare. Persevere.
"Consider it pure joy, my brothers, when you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete not lacking anything." James 1:2-4
When I was in college I took an economics class that rocked my straight 'A' world. For the life of me, I couldn't process the micro or macro economic principles. Nothing connected and I was failing.
So, I did what any good college girl would do in this situation. I called my step Dad and pleaded my case for dropping this nightmare class. To which he replied, "No."
"Dad, it will ruin my average. It will ruin my life!"
"No, Lysa. If I let you drop this class, I would be doing you a terrible disservice. There are lessons that can only be learned when you're placed in the crucible of perseverance."
I may or may not have rolled my eyes, stomped my foot and growled out loud. "Dad! Why are you doing this to me?"
Dad went on to share about a class he took in Law School. He hated real estate law, begged his Dad to let him drop the class, was turned down by his Dad, and probably did a little foot stomping as well. He wound up barely making a "D" in the class.
And he became a real estate attorney who gets invited back to his law school to teach this very class.
"Dad, I'll never, ever teach economics, I can assure you."
But the decision had been made. I would have to stick out the class. I would have to work harder than I'd ever worked. And I would be grafted into the generational thread. The "D" factor.
This week I sat in the high school academic awards ceremony of my daughter's school. I knew the subjects for which she might have a shot at getting an award. One by one those awards were given out and Hope wasn't called. Towards the end of the ceremony, the math teacher stood up and walked on stage.
I knew Hope wasn't getting the Algebra award. She'd made good grades in this class during the first and last trimester, but the second trimester saw all things algebra fall apart. The generational thread wove it's way into my daughter's life. The "D" factor.
When the teacher got up to give the Academic Excellence Award for Algebra, he smiled and said with special permission from the school principal this year's award would be given to the student with perseverance over academic excellence.
Hope TerKeurst.
I seriously doubt Hope will ever develop a passion for or desire to teach algebra. But more than numbers and equations and functions too complicated for her mama's economics challenged brain, she learned how to persevere. And what a rare and beautiful quality that is in our give-up world today.
Sometimes we avoid challenge for fear of failure. If I'm honest, I think this is why I avoided trying to eat healthy for so long. I'd heard of people giving up sugar, breads, and starches and my first reaction was always, "I could never do that."
That wasn't a true statement. It wasn't any more true than me saying, "I can't do economics. " Or my Dad saying, "I can't do real estate law." Or my daughter saying, "I can't do algebra."
Those things may not come to us with ease and we may never do them perfectly, but we can persevere. We can do that.
And on the other side of perseverance is a victory sweeter than perfection. Perfection comes from strengths we knew we had. Perseverance comes from tapping into something inside us we're altogether surprised we had.
So, come on. Aren't you ready to be 'D'elightfully surprised? Persevere sweet sister. Be rare. Persevere.
"Consider it pure joy, my brothers, when you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete not lacking anything." James 1:2-4
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