Wild Weather (Is 6:20)

This picture was from a good article on CNBC.com (click to follow link).

The experts are calling it Frankenstorm. Hurricane Sandy meets Nor'easter (hot wind + cold wind) during a full moon. I think the nickname is quite funny, but I know that it's really nothing to laugh at.

I'm as ready as I can be. I have an emergency radio.The flashlights all have new batteries. All my water jugs are full, I have extra water in the cupboard, and there's plenty of peanut butter, granola bars, and apples. The first aid kits are stocked (all except the neosporin - somehow I forgot to replenish that). My phone and computer are living on their chargers.

I live in a basement, though. So half of my supplies are in the car, just in case. The gas tank is full. My sister lives safely south of the "affected area," so I have a plan. 

Having just moved, I'll admit, I didn't have my emergency stuff in order; I had to go buy water Friday night. Along with about half the city, it seems, because the stores were nearly sold out of water. And bread. And beer (not that I wanted beer - I prefer just about anything else! - but I couldn't help noticing the empty shelves). My sister assures me that if I'd checked the diapers aisle that would've been low, too.

Which got me to thinking about preparedness. In my entire adult life, I've never experienced a real disaster (thankfully). I spent most of my adult life in the western Puget Sound region; a region naturally protected from too much trauma - other than the occasional mild earthquake. This past January, we endured "snowpocalypse," a massive snow and ice storm that kept the city shut down for a week. I was without power for 3 days, some friends were out longer. My main concerns during that event were 1) keeping icy branches from crushing my car and 2) cabin-fever! While living in Denver, I also experienced a couple of genuine so-called "blizzards," but a blizzard in the city looks much different than the ones you might imagine from Little House on the Prarie. All that to say, I've had no reason to be prepared.

But I (sortof) was. Ever since my first perceptible earthquake (2001) - I've had an "emergency kit." Just in case. I generally rotate the goods in it with the seasons, just to keep things fresh. So I don't really understand the shoppers who clean the shelves at the last minute. They can't all be new to town. They can't ALL have just finished unpacking and setting up a new life. They live here. There was a big wind storm here this summer. It knocked out power to parts of VA for over a week. Maybe they used up their supplies then. Maybe they should've stocked up again after that?

By Courtney Carmody, via Flickr

Which reminded me: Jesus says "no man knows the day or the hour" (Matthew 24:36) of His return. He even told a story about women, waiting for their husbands to return from a deployment, during a storm, and not having batteries in their flashlights (ok, it wasn't exactly like that, but it could have been - Matthew 25). When the end of the world finally arrives, we won't have days to prepare. We won't have alarms and storm trackers and friends and neighbors calling to be sure we have everything we need. When the end of this world of pain and suffering finally comes, it will be in the blink of an eye. 

So we need to be ready, and we need to reach out to our friends and neighbors NOW to help them be ready, because we love them, and we want them to be safe. So call someone. Share the good news.
The end *is* coming. Let's get ready together.

"Your days of grief will come to an end. I, the Lord, will be your eternal light." -Isaiah 6:20

Masks? (Prov. 22:6)

"Meaningless! Meaningless!" says the teacher. "Everything is meaningless!"                     -Ecclesiastes 12:8 (NIV)

Have you ever had one of those days? Those days when you feel like you just can't do one more thing? Manage one more bit of information? Answer one more question? Help one more person?

If you are a teacher, chances are you have.

I truly believe education creates opportunities and experiences that can change a young person's life. Among my literary heroes were Professor  and Mrs. Baer (and I'm super-happy to know of any of you who recognize that reference), who dedicated their lives to helping children overcome obstacles. On the other hand, my heart broke a little every time Tom and Huck cut school, believing the only opportunities that mattered were the ones they hunted up for themselves, away from the stodgy grown-ups determined to ruin all their fun.

Stodgy grown ups, with an agenda that doesn't seem to have anything to do with the things that really matter to kids. Who don't have time to find out what their children are interested in. Grown ups who think they have all the answers, even before they hear the questions.

Growing up, I had a few of those teachers; the ones you just know must hate school or hate children, or both, but - thankfully - I had more of the good ones. I had more teachers who loved school. I had more teachers who loved children. I had more teachers who made me believe that I could do anything, be anything, try anything. Because they believed in me, I learned to believe in myself. And I overcame obstacles. And I found opportunities. And I've enjoyed many rich and rewarding experiences.

Custom Image by
my good friend, Jennie Fairall

Including becoming a teacher.

I got into teaching to make a difference. Not to review data and prepare for tests. Not to spend hours and hours on charts for sorting and labeling children. Not for meetings and workshops and systems and protocols for giving tests, teaching to tests, writing tests, scoring tests.

Yet I spend almost as many hours on data as I do instruction. Especially when you subtract from instruction the time for health screenings (because more and more kids don't get regular medical/dental care), counselor lessons (for anti-bullying and anti-drug and anti-gang messages they might not be getting anywhere else), daily recess (because otherwise they might never move around), pictures, concerts, safety drills, regular meals, and the other "stuff" schools routinely provide as services to our children and our communities.

I don't mind, not exactly. As long as all of that extra "stuff" is designed to help my kids learn, grow, and succeed I'll do it. I might not love it, but I'll do it. I'll even smile. I'll let the kids believe it all matters, that I don't mind any of it. Because I know that every look I give, every sentence I write, every test I mark is part of their training. I have no way of knowing exactly what will stick for each little soul I touch. So I do my best to make it all matter, to let the children know they matter - to me, and to the world.

Teach children how they should live,
and they will remember it all of their lives.           -Proverbs 22:6 (GNT)

On moving forward... (Prov. 9:12)

Last Friday, a member of the local Sherrif's department came to give an assembly for all the 5th graders at my school. Most of these 5th graders have been with our school for many years. More than half of them come from "challenging" backgrounds. For them, 5th grade really marks a crucial dividing line. Up until now, the deputy reminded them, they've been surrounded by people who know them well, and are working with them, as they develop their characters. Next year begins a whole new era of personal accountability.

At the heart of his presentation was a message about setting goals and working toward them. He shared how he is working to further his education, taking online classes at night after getting home at 2a.m.. He told the kids that his drive was to be a better person, husband, father, friend, officer next year than he was this year.

Of course, that's what we all want, isn't it? To be a better person next year? To develop as human beings? It certainly is what God wants for us.

Yet how many of us really stop to examine our personal, long-term goals - regularly - and work toward them faithfully? I know I don't. Not that I don't set goals. Or accomplish things. As any one who's known me long can tell you, when I make my mind up to do something, it gets done.

Unless it doesn't.

Usually the "doesn't" covers the things that actually would improve me as a person. I can plan for a vacation, no problem. This summer I checked at least 3 items off my bucket list. But there are some long-term goals I've had for a while that I've done next-to-nothing about. 

Yes, progress is being made.
But don't ask how long those cups have been around. 

So, I realized I'm not a novelist about a year after I bought this magazine.
But I am an essayist. And much of the same logic/discipline applies.

I've yet to meet a Christian who really felt they "got" Revelation.
I keep meaning to *really* study it. And the prophets. Oh, and the law.
Clearly, I could certainly spend more time  internalizing God's message to His children.
(Book by a friend, Keith Ferrin, available at this link.)

The uncomfortable truth is that I'm much better with short term goals than long term ones. Accomplishing things keeps life interesting, and makes me feel like I'm getting somewhere. Sometimes I am. But not having long-term goals is the same as refusing to look at the bigger picture. And God created us as eternal beings. There's no avoiding the fact that life is lived long-term.

Of course, long term goals require a plan. And some patience. Not to mention perserverence. Those are 3 p's I really struggle with (believe it or not!). Thank goodness for prayer. Because when it comes to thinking long-term, I know I need God's help.

So I'm carving out time today to consider the deputy's questsion: "How will I be a better person next year than I am today?" I already have a couple of ideas. Based on my history with short-term goals, I am confident that, God willing, I can achieve it.

And won't that be a day to celebrate?! 

You are the one who will profit if you have wisdom; and if you reject it, you are the one who will suffer.

(HA! You were expecting 1Cor9:24, weren't you? I thought about it. Really I did.)           -Proverbs 9:12 And if I were you, I'd peek back at Proverbs 8, too.

I thought of you today... (Col 1:17)

“Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another, 'What! You too? I thought I was the only one”  - CS Lewis

I thought of you today. Yes, you. I was out today, being random, enjoying my new life, and I thought of you. I know you enjoy adventures, and being random. I thought of you when I was at the mall, sipping delicious, fru-fru coffee, looking at beautiful fall clothes and not buying overpriced sparkly shoes; when the survey woman asked when I'd last seen a movie; when I laughed at the Halloween decorations; when I was staring at the wine shelf in the grocery store, deciding what to try. I thought of you when I was at the antique store, the flea market, goodwill, looking for furniture and finding surprises. I thought of you when I passed the seafood restaurant, the taco truck, the sushi bar, the Thai place. I thought of you when I was driving on a beautiful, winding, tree lined road, windows down, music up;  when that song we laughed at came on the radio; when I was washing my car; when I got caught in the warm, splashing Virginia rain 20 minutes later. I thought of you in my neighborhood, when I saw the jogger with her brightly colored jacket; the dog walker tangled in her leash; the home-owner on his deck lighting a grill; the children on their bikes. I thought of you when I got home and saw the vase you gave me, the owl you gave me, the book you recommended, the scrapbook I'm going to make, the games we played on long winter nights, eating popcorn and watching movies. I thought of you when I did the chores I least enjoy, and remembered how we kept each other company. Somewhere, some time, I read that the only thing that lasts into eternity are the Godly relationships we build here on Earth. I know there's guarantee of that. Still, I am so thankful that God put us together. I pray that I can be a blessing to you, as you are to me. I thought of you today, and knew I was loved. Thank you.  [God] is before all things, and in Him all things hold together. Colossians 1:17