May 27, 2005

Dating in High School

When I was your age I dated a cheerleader. And a band geek. And a multi-sport she-jock. All at different times, thank you. In all I spent more than half my high school career dating, which is pretty astounding considering my geek status.

I liked girls.

Not one of those girls ended up being the one I married. I don’t even talk to any of those girls today. But when I was your age I found a certain fulfillment in dating. I was good at it. I bought flowers and talked on the phone and played the role. At times you’d think I had to date somebody. When I wasn’t dating I was eyeing up the possibilities, trying to figure out if I liked someone, or if they liked me, or some such nonsense.

Dating in high school is funny. It seems like the most important thing in the world. It seems larger than life. It’s not. I didn’t know anything about relationships in high school. I just knew I liked the squishy feeling I got holding a girl’s hand or—gasp—kissing her. I liked knowing someone liked me. To quote an old country song, "I want you to want me, I need you to need me, I love you to love me." In essence it was all a bit selfish.

Since then I’ve learned that relationships actually hard. It takes a lot of work—painful, time consuming, difficult work. If a relationship is going to last, you can’t just hang up the towel and walk away. Most importantly, you need to know yourself. You need to know what you want and need, and how that meshes with someone else. It doesn’t necessarily mean you look for someone just like you. My wife and I are complete opposites in some ways—the important thing was to learn how we were different and deal with it.

Dating is awkward. It’s goofy. It’s strange. And it can be fun. But not always. I don’t want to tell anyone not to date (though your parents may wish I did), but there’s wise counsel in that. Keeping the opposite sex at arm’s length isn’t the greatest either, but being cautious and taking your time before jumping into a relationship is a good thing. Hearts are easily broken and poorly mended. You can make a lot of dumb mistakes dating in high school—though sometimes we need to learn through mistakes. Just be sure to keep your head.

Posted by Kevin D. Hendricks at 01:37 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack

April 18, 2005

The 10 Commandments Don't List Profanity

When I was your age, I could cuss with the best of them. I'd let loose with a string of four-letter words I'd heard from R-rated movies or when my dad let slip when a project wasn't working. Using swear words was dangerous, edgy, and yet somehow cool. Today's it's becoming commonplace.

You know what I think? Words are words. Now before you go drop the F-bomb for your teachers, hear me out. I work on a side project called Church Marketing Sucks and I wrote a piece defending our use of the word 'sucks.' I think my conclusions apply to words farther down the profanity scale as well.

Ephesians 4:29 tell us to not use unwholesome talk. But it doesn't give us a list of off-limits words. Instead it gives us a general guideline: build other people up. You see, God didn't define swear words. He told us not to take his name in vain, and that's about it. Profanity is culturally and contextually defined. Words themselves aren't naughty, it's the meaning culture gives to them and the context they're used in. You can be just as profane using clinical words as you can using "swear" words.

While I stand by my claim that words are words, we also have to pay attention to those around us. Some people are incredibly offended by profanity, and we need to be respectful of them. 1 Corinthians 8 is an interesting chapter that basically tells us sometimes we need to limit our own freedom for the sake of others. Swearing may not be wrong, but if someone has a problem with it, we're not helping them overcome it with our potty mouth. I don't always agree with that chapter, but the challenge seems pretty clear.

So what's the bottom line? The words coming out of your mouth should build people up. I don't think God will put a check in your sin column just because you use a specific word. But it might be a sin if your teachers or parents ask you not to use the word and you do it anyway. And it might be a sin if you're using the word to tear people down (which eliminates a lot of profanity).

While your parents, teachers and youth workers may disagree with me, I don't think profanity is a big deal. Honestly, I don't give it much thought. Instead, I focus on being respectful with the words I do use, and try to build others up instead of tear them down. I won't pretend I'm perfect, but I do think it's more important to focus on how we use our words, as opposed to being obsessed with blacklisted obscenities.

Posted by Kevin D. Hendricks at 03:34 PM | Comments (4) | TrackBack

April 11, 2005

Sixteen and Behind the Wheel

When I was your age I had a tenuous relationship with cars. I slid my '88 Mustang off the road more times than I care to remember. I tore reverse out of my dad’s brand new truck. I rear-ended a car in the school parking lot, causing $500 worth of damage.

The police pulled me over for going 59 mph in a 40 mph zone and threatened me with reckless driving. My excuse? Late for a final. Another time I stopped at a red light, looked both ways, and kept going, causing an officer to ask if I'd taken any drugs or alcohol. No sir, I'm just stupid.

Once I shouted over the noise to my friend: "Does the muffler sound loud to you?" Before he could answer there was a crash and the sound of a muffler dragging along the road.

I grew up in the suburbs where public transportation was a joke and walking was only a form of exercise. Which made a driver's license a necessary right of passage. But it didn't come easy. Driving a car in my house meant responsibility. We made all repairs ourselves, which meant goodbye Saturday. And don't forget insurance. Every six months I had to pony up insurance money for my dad. Is it any wonder I took the bus to work for three years and now work at home?

The automobile brings freedom to the American teenager. It can also bring stupidity. Car accidents are the leading cause of death among teens. Driving with a friend doubles your risk of getting in a wreck, and talking on that cell phone slows your reaction time to that of a 70-year-old. Don't check your brains at the car door: Wear your seatbelt. Drive the speed limit (I'm still learning that one). Look both ways. Red means stop. Showing off puts your stupidity on display. And donuts? Stick to eating them. (ABC News, Feb. 13, 2005)

Posted by Kevin D. Hendricks at 08:17 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

April 04, 2005

Christian T-Shirt

When I was your age I wore Christian T-shirts with slogans like "Worship the best or die like the rest," and "His pain, your gain." The twenty-something Relevant Apparel offers a different take on the Christian T-shirt.

Their statement of irony and oddity pokes a bit of fun at the concept of a Christian T-shirt. I used to think the billboard on my chest would spark conversations and prove to be a witnessing tool. While in many ways it did (I was well-known as the Christian kid in school), it also let me forget that my actions could speak louder than anything my lips or my shirt could say.

Too often I remember hiding behind a slogan on a shirt instead of engaging people in conversation. While I did accomplish my goal—my peers knew I was a Christian—most people probably understood my faith more by what I didn’t do than what I did do. I didn't swear, smoke, party or have sex. Looking back, I wish people saw my faith more in my actions—primarily loving other students regardless of social standing (Matt. 22:39).

It reminds me of a similar T-shirt by the musician Justin McRoberts: "They'll know we are Christians by our T-shirts." If a bumper-sticker slogan is your primary means of evangelism, perhaps you should reconsider. Jesus didn't have a tagline. He just talked to people.

For all my Christian T-shirt wearing, I didn't have many evangelistic moments in high school. But the ones I remember the most, the ones that seemed to have the most impact, were the ones initiated by a friendship, not a trite slogan on a cotton tee.

Posted by Kevin D. Hendricks at 09:15 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack