A Funeral for "I Can't"

I recently had the opportunity to read a chapter from Sharon Jaynes new book I'm Not Good Enough. In the book, Sharon tells the story of a teacher who lived and worked in a small town in Michigan. One day she decided that she and her students would have a funeral for "I Can't."

On the appointed day, she instructed her class of ten year olds to fill sheets of paper with every "I Can't" statement that had ever plagued them. They were told to use as many sheets of paper as necessary to get them all down.

"I can't kick the soccer ball past second base."
"I can't do long division with more than three numerals."
"I can't get Debbie to like me."
"I can't do ten push ups."
"I can't eat just one cookie."

The students lists went on and on. Some students needed more than one page to complete the lists. Even the teacher was busy writing out a list of "I Can'ts." When everyone was finished, the teacher asked each student to come forward and place their list in an empty shoe box. When all the lists had been collected, she put the lid on the box, tucked it under her arm, and headed out the door and down the hall with all the students in tow.

Halfway down the hall, the procession stopped and the teacher entered the custodian's room. She quickly returned with a shovel and proceded to lead the students to a far corner of the playground. The students took turns helping to dig a hole for the box. When it was big enough, the box of "I Can'ts" was placed in the hole and covered with dirt. Each student had at least one full page of "I Can'ts" buried in that box, as did the teacher.

At this point, the teacher had the students gather around, join hands, and lower their heads. She delivered a befitting eulogy for "I Can't."

"We have provided "I Can't" with a final resting place and with a headstone that contains his epitaph. He is survided by his brothers and sister, "I Can," "I Will," and "I'm Going to Right Away." They are not as well known as their famous relative and are certainly not as strong and powerful yet. Perhaps someday, with your help, they will make an even bigger mark on the world. May "I Can't" rest in peace and may everyone present pick up their lives and move forward in "I Can'ts" absence. Amen"

Following the funeral service, the students returned to their classroom where they celebrated the passing of "I Can't" with cookies, popcorn, and fruit juice. They prepared a large tombstone from butcher paper with the words "I Can't" at the top and the date of death at the bottom. They hung the tombstone in their classroom for the remainder of the year.

On those rare occasions when a student forgot and uttered the words, "I can't," the teacher simply pointed to the tombstone and the student was reminded that "I Can't" was dead. They were encouraged to rephrase their statement.

I frequently find that the words "I can't" creep into my conversation. Perhaps I need to have a funeral service for "I Can't." Perhaps we all do. This week why don't you try making a list of all your "I Can'ts" and then bury them. Write an obituary and place it where you will see it often.

Eliminate the words "I can't" from your vocabulary. I can't? I don't think so. I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.