A lily... Diva style! (Luke 12:27-32)

Umm... I'm back. 

Turns out that my verbal-processing-open-journal actually DOES keep me better connected to the folks I love. Because, despite having recently adopted a 45 minute commute, I'm still hard to catch on the phone. And I'm not the only one who's lousy at e-mail. But I simply cannot boil everything down to a facebook update. So, if you like random thoughts and updates from me; if you don't mind the occasional ramble, bookmark me. Check back...maybe weekly? That's my goal anyway. Weekly. We shall see.

It's been a busy summer. 

In early July, I moved out of my home in VA and onto my sister's couch in NC. 

Shortly after that, I had a fantastic trip back to Tacoma. I got to enjoy 80 degree summer in the Puget Sound, spoil a cuddly canine, and spend a ton of quality time with some of the most wonderful people I'll ever meet.

 My trip was restorative and restful. It also affirmed my decision to leave the lovely Pacific Northwest, at least for a while. The reasons I left - sunshine, family, and faith - are still strong pulls. Plus, I'm still adventuring. 

And learning. 

Since school started, I have learned even more about how different education is across the country. As 40+ states adopt the Common Core State Standards for curriculum, and adopt rubrics which tie teacher evaluations to student performance, outcomes are theoretically being leveleld. Yet I see no move to address the input. The disparities in resources - physical, technological, and human - in the three states where I hold a certificate are significant. These kids, their schools, and the districts/states aren't bringing the same things to the table. NC teachers get paid 2/3 as much as teachers in University Place, and yet they have more responsibilities in the classroom. One of the biggest districts in NC has a very restrictive limit on the number of copies teachers can make, because they can't afford paper and toner. At some point we, as a nation, need to have this conversation, too. But teacher stuff will mainly go on my other blog "only the lessons." Look for it there, a couple times a month. 

For now, let me just say that I'm loving my work environment. I have a welcoming and supportive team. The boss communicates regularly. The kids are fun to work with. The challenges are interesting. And, since it's a converted old high school  the campus (and the classroom) is huge. So I'm getting a lot of walking in.

Which is good. 

Because in July the doctor told me that I have pretty bad arthritis in my ankle. Likely predating the broken leg, but certainly aggravated by it. Now that I'm settled in my new district, I'm going to get it evaluated by a local doctor and learn what that means for me, long-term. (Feel free to pray for my medical care).  At first I felt rather...limited by this new development. The doc took away tennis and running (two hobbies I actually wanted to pick up). Although he did replace them with kayaking and walking (I already love walking, and kayaking... a water sport? twist my arm!), it still certainly complicated moving this summer. And vacation. And back-to-school. But then two things happened.

1) As I started walking my campus, regularly, and loosening up, the "predating" finally really sunk in. Meaning this really is the same condition I dealt with in my young adulthood. I dealt with it. Successfully. So I know I can deal with it. (And, for the record, I haven't used the "gimp stick" in at least 2 weeks).

2) I remembered how I dealt with it. I remembered that my God is bigger than the boogey man.  Or the arthritis fairy. I have been blessed in so many ways. And part of this journey was learning to trust God with everything. Everything, I guess, includes my ankles. Funny that. Head-shoulders-knees-and-toes?!

I'm not planning to let some deteriorated cartilage slow me down. In fact, I've some pretty ambitious health-and-fitness goals for the 2013/2014 school year. I'm excited and motivated. Not to mention stubborn. 

Oh, and broke, thanks to the NC pay schedule. But it doesn't cost (much) to walk. So I can learn to live super-frugally, and still have fun in the process. Win!

And you know what? God's got plans for me. It's been a while since I've been so excited to see what they might be. 

I know that for tomorrow, at least, they include spending a sunny morning hanging out with my niece, watching my nephew play PopWarner football, while my sister does her team-mom duties. That's a pretty good place to start.

"I'm a lily." - You Can't Take It With You (1938)

One of my all time favorite chunks of scripture begins with a reminder of the lilies and how lovely they are. It ends with the encouragement that God loves to bless us when we trust Him. It's a little long to type the whole thing here, but you can check out Luke 12:27-32 by clicking on this link. 

I hope you have an amazing week! 

A Prayer, and an Answer (Gen 2:18)

I clearly remember a spring day in my young adulthood, when I was standing at the clothesline behind my lovely brick apartment home, hanging out my laundry and praying God would send me just one good Christian friend. Most of my faith journey, to that point, had been just me and God. I read my Bible daily. I went to church regularly. I had a healthy prayer life. But I had no Christian friends. There was not one believer in my life with whom I felt close enough to pray, study, learn or celebrate. There was, at that time, no one close to me who didn't think I was at least a little bit crazy for putting so much hope and trust in ancient "legends."

Now, I am blessed to be positively surrounded by people of faith. Some of my old friends have become true brothers and sisters in Christ. I've met many more on the journey. I'm blessed by their encouragement and I rely on their prayers. Our conversations are richly seasoned with things not of this world. I'm pretty sure they don't think I'm crazy (or at least not ALL crazy).

Women of faith...together...the first Easter
discovering the empty tomb.

Since most of my readers are also these friends, it would be silly (and somewhat insulting) for me to try to write here about the incredible-ness of Easter. We rejoice today, together. Our joy has been more eloquently expressed in a hundreds of songs. The lessons of faith and redemption taught in dozens of sermons. My awe has been captured by authors far more talented than I, and shared in hundreds of books.

This morning, when I rose to get ready for church, I was overwhelmed with thankfulness for the community of believers who have become such an important part of my life. Easter - the resurrection of our Lord and Savior -  is the most important thing we have in common. In some cases the only thing. That's okay. It is more than enough.

I still pray for those in my life who do not know the Lord. How dark must this world seem without the hope of Easter, of life, of renewal, of a Kingdom beyond this world. These dear ones do not understand why we celebrate today with more than bunnies, eggs, and jelly-beans. So I pray that God will open their eyes, that Jesus will speak to their hearts, that the Spirit of truth will draw them near.

I pray, and I celebrate.
Because I know that prayers are answered. You, my friends, are proof of that.
Will you share your own story of answered prayer?

The Lord God said, "It is not good for man to be alone." - Genesis 2:18

It's beginning to look a *little* like Christmas! (Heb 11:1)

Oh, Christmas tree... how lovely are your branches.

City sidewalks, busy sidewalks, dressed in holiday style.
Silver and gold, means so much more when I see... silver and gold decorations, on every Christmas tree.

Deck the halls with boughs of holly! 'Tis the season to be jolly!

It's the most wonderful time of the year!

I truly do love Christmas. I love cards. Breezy little news updates from all corners of my life.  I love the songs. And that everyone sings, so no-one notices my off-key contribution to the glee. I love the treats. The cookies. The candies. The soups. The amazing entrees. Did I mention the cookies? I love the pervasive attitude of good will (even in crowded stores).

I especially love the decorations. Twinkling lights. Green, red, and white everywhere. Priceless handmade treasures alongside carefully crafted elegance; joy oozing out of every nook and cranny. When I (fairly ruthlessly) eliminated piles of stuff prior to my move this year, there were still 4 storage bins full of Christmas stuff I had to keep. 

However, this year I've opted for minimal decorations.

One small (crochet) tree. One nativity. One Santa doll (not even my favorite). One stocking. One book. Some movies. 

I have a lot of reasons.

I'm working an average of 11 hours/day, and worrying about work more than I should when I'm "off." I'm honestly exhausted most of the time lately. The idea of unpacking those boxes (and then repacking them in 4 weeks) is more than I can take right now.

Besides, no-one comes to my place. Ever. There's no reason to. I'm not even (generally) home on weekends. I'll be visiting family for the big day. Not counting the hours spent sleeping or getting ready for work in the morning, I calculate that I'll be home about 120 hours this month - total. 

Mainly, though, I'm not decorating my house because it doesn't feel like home.

I'm staying there. My bed is there. But I know it's temporary. More so than the other rentals I've occupied, because I know the owner is planning to sell. In the past, it was always up to me how long I stayed. If I loved a place, I always believed I could stay there, indefinitely. This time, I know that's not the case.

Which gets me thinking about heaven.

One of the most important tenets of my faith is that Earth is not all there is. We have a home that is unimaginably greater than this world.

More fantastic than the fabulous food served at holiday feasts.
More comfortable than a crackling fire and cozy socks on a chilly day.

More thrilling than the moment that long-anticipated, beautifully wrapped gift beneath the elegant tree is finally opened.
More awe-inspiring than the multitudes of stars, shimmering in the night sky, like Christmas lights in stores, on streets, on houses, in trees.

More joyous than off-key carolers proclaiming the good news of Jesus' birth on every street corner.
More wonderful than a phone call or Skype with someone dear who is far away.
More heart-warming than the love we so imperfectly try to show our families and friends.

More incredible, even,  than the magic that keeps Santa on schedule and in the air, year after year.
More blissful than the laughter of children, building snowmen, and hoping for magic.

Ok. Maybe not greater than children laughing. But at least as good. 

Merry Christmas, everyone. And whether your decorations are big or small, may they remind you of the hope we have of better yet to come!

To have faith is to be sure of the things we hope for, to be certain of the things we cannot see. -Hebrews 11:1

A moment in time

A while back, someone posed the following question as a warm-up to a Bible-study group I'm in: "If you could take one (round) trip on a time machine absolutely anywhen - past or future - when would you visit?"

Think about that for a minute. What would you wish?

The dozen-or-so people in my group had some great answers. One would visit a time of national tragedy as a pair of helping hands. One would visit the past with some tips on sanitation that would save countless lives. One wanted to look back a generation and try to understand her own parents better. A few wanted to peek into the future, to see how things turned out for their children and their children's children. 

So again...what would you wish?

Interestingly, only one of us chose to visit Bible-times. The Garden of Eden, to be exact.
Remember, this is a Bible study group. We're all believers. We all look eagerly toward the day when we'll be face-to-face with the glorified Christ in Heaven. But given the chance to time-travel, none of us wished to visit Him during His ministry here on Earth.

Why?
I can't speak for anyone else, but I have given a lot of thought to my own reluctance.
As usual, for me, there's not one easy answer.

There's the "good" answer. And the more real answer. They both boil down to the same key word: DOUBT.

The good answer is extracted from Jesus' own words to "doubting Thomas." Remember Thomas? He's the apostle who couldn't accept that Jesus was really back from the dead that first Easter until he had put his own fingers into the Lord's wounds. Jesus let Thomas poke away until Tom was satisfied that the man in front of him truly was the One he expected to rule. When Thomas declared "It is you!," Jesus replied, "because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed."

So that's the good answer. I believe without seeing, so I am differently blessed than those who touched, saw, and believed. I wouldn't want to loose the sweetness of that absolute faith. Each day, I rely on the Spirit of God in ways the early disciples didn't have to. It is only through God-in-Me that my faith grows, that I understand the universe, that I live with confidence that there is more to life than the "reality" that confronts me each day. That reliance draws me closer to God. I wouldn't jeopardize that for a moment.

Lovely thought, isn't it. And true. And yet... not all there is to my hesitation to step back into His path. After all, I know Jesus didn't love Thomas any less for wondering. I expect to meet him in Heaven. His story is proof, in the Bible, that Jesus understands our need to probe and question.

The more real answer is, of course, far messier and less pious.

I didn't choose to go back to Jesus's time because I was afraid that He wouldn't have time for me. That He wouldn't see me, notice me, hear me, care about me. Throughout His ministry he was surrounded by THRONGS of people. Thousands came to hear him preach. At least 3 times he had to "escape" the crowd. I wasn't willing to take the chance that I'd be just another face in that crowd. If Jesus didn't know me, didn't have time for me, couldn't see me or recognize me, I'd be lost.

I'm glad "God so loved the world that he gave His only begotten Son that whosoever believe in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." However, sometimes I need to know God cares just about ME, not about the whole world.

This spring I've spent some time re-reading the gospels. Looking at the individuals Jesus did encounter. Mary and Martha. Jairus, the official with the dying daughter. The blind man He healed with spit. Lazarus, for whom He wept. The woman at the well. The adulteress He saved from execution. Zaccheus. The Samaritan leper. The bleeding woman.

I've learned something important. Yes, Jesus did teach the crowd. Because God did send Him for the whole world. But He also made time for the individuals who sought him out. Zaccheus sat in a tree just hoping for a glimpse of the Lord passing by, and Jesus decided to come to his house for dinner. The bleeding woman snuck up on Him, so convinced of her own worthlessness that she didn't even want to ask for help or attention. He praised her for her faith. Jairus was an official at the synagogue - representing the very institutions that would have Jesus killed - yet, the He went into his house and rescued his young daughter.

So... I've learned that Jesus would have noticed me. He would have heard me, and even stopped to talk to me. He would have cared about me. I would not have been just a face in the crowd. The Spirit of God, the divine Comforter my Lord sent when He returned to Heaven, taught me that.
I've never been so glad to be wrong...and right...at the same time.


As for time-travel, maybe I'll visit doubting Thomas - after the Ascension, of course. It seems he and I might have a lot to talk about.

New Year's Resolutions

It's cliched, I know, to make resolutions. It is much easier not to break resolutions you don't make, so that's been my thinking the last few years. Avoid failing myself by skipping the whole thing.

This year, though, I'm taking a braver stand. I'm declaring some goals for the year, and stepping forward in full confidence that I can and will do what I set out to do.

So, in 2012, I will give myself (at least) 1 hour each day.

15 minutes to write in a journal, memory book, story, or blog.

15 minutes to read something uplifting, inspiring, or otherwise edifying.

15 minutes to walk & breathe.

15 minutes to meditate on how much God loves me.

Now, obviously that's not much time for any of these. Ideally, I'll find myself so engrossed I'll spend a little more time in each worthy pursuit. Yet I sit here, thinking over the last month or so, and recognize that such a small commitment will be a HUGE improvement from my recent past.

To tell the truth, my last blog post (Nov. 10) was the last serious writing I did (unless you count the endless Christmas-card letters).  I *may* have logged a total of 60 minutes this month reading a couple inspirational works by CSLewis and Brennan Mannering. Maybe. Most of what I read over my Christmas break was cotton-candy for the brain. I read the YA series The Hunger Games. I read 5 of those short Christmas novellas that magically appear everywhere this time of year. I read 3 magazines: Oprah, People, and Saturday Evening Post. I read a mystery by James Patterson. I read some of my favorite children's Christmas books. As for walking and breathing... well... um, yea. I live just under two miles from one of the most gorgeous views around, but I can't tell you the date of the last time I walked down to see it.

I can't even tell you how far I've gotten from really feeling God's love. Gasp, if you will, but be honest.  I'm not saying I think God doesn't love me. I'm saying I've gotten so caught up in "my world" that I've forgotten how to see that love. I expect to write more on that as the year progresses. 

My resolutions are tiny. I will, most likely, miss a step every so often (in fact, I didn't walk today). But even little things make a big difference. Like a smile from a friend.  One extra "snooze" in the morning. A baby. A pair of comfy socks. A cup of coffee. 5mph on the freeway. So, a little bit at a time, I resolve to spend the next year getting closer to the me I want to be.

The Cactus of Thanksgiving

A couple years back, a friend of mine gave me a flowering cactus, to replace a treasured houseplant that just had not been able to survive my black thumb. She assured me that even I could keep this gem from dying.

Turns out she was right. It's still alive. Even better, it's blooming! Which took me by surprise, partly because I thought it was a Christmas Cactus (she tells me it is actually a Thanksgiving Cactus), and partly because in the last two years, it really hasn't bloomed before. Oh, sure, it has had buds a couple of times. One or two even opened. However, even a garden gnome could see that wasn't all it was capable of.

It's truly blooming now, though, and it looks great. I have to admit, I might have missed it. It's on top of the fridge - not a spot I look at often. Thank God it's so bright, bold, and obvious.

Now, being a black thumb, I'm not really sure why this time is different. It's living environment didn't really change. It's lived on top of my fridge for a while, getting moderate sunlight through the patio door. The amount of water hasn't been changed. The temperature inside is pretty much the same year-round, excepting that we turn the heater down at nights for bed, so winter/fall nights are cooler. Despite all that same-ness, the plant is blooming now, when it hadn't before. So, I know SOMETHING changed. Something indefinable, invisible, and critical. Somehow, now, the plant is finally ready to bloom. God only knows why.

GOD only knows why.

I don't really have to tell you why I thought this was worth a spot here, on this blog, do I? The plant could be me. It could represent my whole life, or just one certain area of it. The plant could be my family, blooming with understanding and compassion. The plant could be my friends, coming into bloom in their jobs and relationships. The plant could be our faith maturing and blooming over time.

I know what it means to me today. Today it is one part of my life, the place where I needed the most encouragement. Chances are, something in your life is like this plant, too.

You're afraid it might be dead or dying. Look again. It isn't. You might just have the wrong name for it, or be expecting it in the wrong season. It's surviving, despite the odds. In fact, it's growing, maturing... even if it's not truly thriving. 

If you think back, you might even remember a time when it sent out little test buds just to remind you that it was alive. A part of your life. Put there by God. Not to taunt and torment you, but to help you have hope. To remind you to look, wait, watch. Because each and every day, your cactus is getting closer to a full, bursting bloom!

Gardeners and farmers understand patience better than just about anyone on earth. Folks like me...well, we need a reminder every now-and-then. I am thankful that God knows just when to send them.

Hope

Through my tears, I see you.
I know you.
You love me.

My heart breaks with each love song,
Hallmark commercial,
Soccer game, and Bat Mitzvah.

I cry and shout.
I beg.
You hide.

Silent.
Watching, waiting,
Moving pieces into place?
Or working on something else?

I keep myself too busy to notice;
to feel;
to cry.

Until You corner me,
make me sit. stay.
You stir my wounds,
make me bleed.

You say it will be okay.
There is a reason.
There is a plan.

Through my tears I see You.
I hear You.
I  trust, because You love me.
So, I hope.