Below the MARK - what dreaded, ugly words. But far too often they invade my thoughts with a nagging persistence. Who sets the vague idea of "the mark"? And who gets to decide if we fall above or below it? Is this mark set at a different altitude for each of us depending upon our circumstances? What if we didn't have "a mark" to attain to? Would we stop even trying? Or would doing our best actually be good enough?! Every day I battle the feelings of living below the mark. I have all these ideas of how to embellish a lesson at school, but I don't have or take enough time to prepare, and even though my students caught the concept and were enthused about acting out the slash and burn method of Mayan farming with no props, I feel below the mark because I really wanted to have had corn kernels, machetes, and pointed sticks and to have done it for real in the field beside the playground. Then I come home and water my kumquat tree with its small boughs loaded with orange fruit, and I gaze forlornly at the empty pots nearby that were supposed to be filled with beautiful blue pansies. It wouldn't have taken much time or effort to have purchased and plopped some pansies into the pots. Below the mark again! And when I dump the dustpan into the trashcan from brooming up the floors after supper, a crumpled McDonald's bag stares me in the face. There was nothing for Daniel to eat for lunch. Again. OK. Enough gloom! What if "the mark" were utterly destroyed?! Could I just be happy that I have more ideas than I can ever possibly materialize? Enjoy others' pansies? Be thankful that Daniel likes food from McDonald's? Or does "the mark" give us incentive to keep trying to give this life our all? After all, if we felt like we had "hit the mark" and had already "arrived" so to speak, would there be joy in the journey? Because maybe that's where the blessing lies - in the journey toward the mark, not the destination of reaching it.
