The Letter of the Law

There's no leather chaise lounge, and no distinguished looking old man with glasses taking notes. But I'm definitely revisiting some old memories.

Suddenly it's as vivid as the day it happened. It all started when *Jay had the audacity to put his hand on *Kara's knee. (What's the big deal? Well, if you'd gone to my school, you would have been shocked too. It was a separate world unto itself.)

Okay, so he broke the rules. I didn't have a problem with him being punished. I did, however, have a huge problem with ME being punished. Let me explain. It was my freshmen year of high school. Two things are important to know about that year. I found myself in a class completely made up of 14 year old boys. I was the only girl. Besides that, I was a year younger than the kids in my own class, because I started kindergarten at the age of four. So you can imagine how intimidating I found the sophmore girls to be, being two years older than me. All of my friends were in the two grades below me. Some of them had been my friends since infancy, one was even my sister. I did EVERYTHING with those girls. I hated going to my own classes and immediately met up with them during lunch and between bells.

Suddenly, it is announced that because of the public display of affection between an 8th grade girl and a 9th grade boy, from that point on no junior highers and high schoolers will be allowed to sit together at any time, especially during lunch, when the incident took place.

Please allow me a moment to recover from my disbelief. AGAIN. Does anyone see any logic in this decision, even 17 years later? I can see saying Jay isn't allowed to sit with Kara. I can even understand boys not being allowed to sit with girls. If that had been the way things were handled, I probably wouldn't even remember this. But no, it was decided that this was the way it would be. And it only affected three people. Jay, Kara, and me.

I was angry beyond words. And I didn't mind showing it. I cried and complained to my sympathetic friends, but they couldn't do anything about it. When the first horrible day came when I walked into that cafeteria and saw all my friends sitting at that table and knew I couldn't join them, I was more hurt than I had ever been before. Beyond that, I was embarrassed. Who in the world would I sit with? The dumb boys that made up my class? Forget it! Older girls who scared the life out of me? No way! In a huff and completely unable to decide what to do, I went with rebellion to cover my shame. I grabbed a chair and plunked myself down by the doorway and stared angrily at the teacher monitoring lunch. Now, if I were that teacher, I would have ignored me. Did he? Of course not. He told me to go to the principal's office. Nice.

Fortunately, I had a wonderful principal during that time. He was one of the most understanding and inspiring teachers I have ever had. I wasn't afraid of him, in fact, I practically ran to the office to share with him my unfair circumstance. I poured my heart out and stood sniffling in the doorway of his office. He didn't say anything for a few minutes. At the time I figured he was mad at me like everyone else. But now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure he felt sorry for me. And he knew why I felt I was being treated unfairly. But he didn't say he would take care of it, or make an exception for me like I thought he would.

"The problem is, you're only obeying the letter of the law." he explained. I looked at him like he had three eyes. What in the world was that supposed to mean?

Well, time went on, and I eventually realized that the sophmore girls weren't so scary, and if I sat at their table I could lean over and talk to my friends without getting in too much trouble. The trial passed, but an imprint remained. (As you can see, by this recount.) And now I'm thinking about Mr. G's words and I think I know what he meant.

I have come to the point where I can admit that I have a problem with authority figures. God has kept putting them in my pathway, from that first kindergarten teacher who sent me to the principal's office for disrupting order by offering my best friend a better place in line (Yes, I've been sent there twice), to the husband and pastors that lead me now. But thank the Lord Mr. G said those words all those years ago. If he had just smoothed my path, I would have expected life to do the same. But it was more important that I realize that obeying the rules of imperfect men is as important as obeying the perfect rules of God. By submitting to the whole law, rather than just the letter, I honor God. And that's more important than always being treated fairly.
I'm still learning. I'm looking forward to how God will use this further in my life.

And I'm thankful for the wisdom of Mr. G, wherever he is. He taught me to love to write, and he also imprinted in me the importance of following more than the letter of the law.

*names changed
Photo taken by my dad.