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

Memory Lane (Prov. 3:3)

When was the last time you wandered down memory lane?
Who did you take with you? What did you talk about?

I got to wander down memory lane with a rarely-seen aunt this weekend. It was interesting, to hear my own memories retold from her perspective. 

I realized, in the sharing, the importance of one's point of view when it comes to personal history. Generally, when I'm wandering through the past, it's with a new friend, a beau, a stranger - someone I have to "fill in" on the events that made me, well, me.  I can't remember the last time I had a chat with someone (other than my darling sister) who was really there. Someone who might remember things a little differently. After all, even undisputed facts can have different facets - like a gemstone in the sun.

For example... I took 5 years off between earning my AA at a community college and finishing my BA at university. In that time I moved to a different state, and saved enough to avoid student loans for a while. While I was, certainly, enjoying the freedom of my early 20's, I always knew I'd go back to college sooner rather than later. I had decided to be a teacher before I was even in high school. She didn't realize any of that. She thought I had dropped out, and then reconsidered and discovered an interest in education. She praised me for getting my life back on track; for becoming responsible. I think she was genuinely surprised when I sorted it out for her. I'm not sure what she thinks of my story now that she realizes I've always been old and dull. It's interesting to consider, though.

Now, I'm becoming fascinated with my own history, and the idea of hearing how the other people in my life would describe the events that shaped our relationships. I love stories. I can't wait to hear the ones my family have to share with me.

I was reading about the Israelite's journey to Jericho recently. So many times Moses warned them to remember their past. To talk to the children. To make monuments, leave reminders, honor traditions, lest God's people forget where they came from. I don't know about your world, but mine is very disconnected from that kind of thinking.

I don't know my history - at least not any farther back than I can remember. But I want to learn. So I'll invite my family to wander down memory lane with me, while there's still time. 

Never let go of loyalty and faithfulness. Tie them around your neck; write them on your heart. -Proverbs 3:3

Courtesy? (Prov. 12:25)

I generally don't post when I'm "in a mood." However, this week I'm making an exception.

This post is regarding my broken leg. I won't be offended if you click off. I know it's a tedious subject. I'm bored of it myself. Deep into my 10th week of healing (75 days), and I'm still not putting weight on it or able to sleep without the boot. I haven't started PT yet. I still have no idea how much longer it will be before I can drive. In fact, I'm not sure in which of the end-of-year events on our  long-term calendar I'll actually be able to participate, come June. 

I was supposed to see the doctor today about my foot. Based on my past experience, I wasn't expecting answers to all of my questions. I was hoping for answers to some.

What I got was a rather powerful lesson in courtesy.

Sometime around noon today the doc's office called to let me know they were "rescheduling" my appointment. No reason given. So I begged someone to watch my class while I called to find out what was going on. Apparently the doc decided not to have evening hours any more. And by evening I mean anything after 4. Now, I don't mean to whine, but one of the reasons I chose this office was because they had later hours. 

Setting that aside, though, today's incident was bad business, plain and simple. He did not wake up sick this morning and have to call in. He made a plan to change his practice. Whether he put that plan in motion this morning or last month, surely someone could have noticed existing appointments and rescheduled them in a more timely fashion. After all, some of those appointments were made by people who cannot drive themselves. 

I called the clinic to express my frustration. I got the switchboard at the main office. They noted my frustration, but made no apology. I had to insist (and I hate insisting) on an appointment after 4 - with anyone at all. They "supposed" they could get me in at 4:10 tomorrow. I have rarely felt so ... ignored.

After begging no less than a dozen wonderful people who all had very legitimate previous engagements, I finally managed to find a ride. Then I re-arranged a parent-meeting I had set for tomorrow. And got permission from my boss to leave a few minutes early to make the early time. So... tomorrow. 

Tomorrow, I'll see a doctor who's going to be less-than-happy to see me after-hours to (hopefully) get at least some of my questions answered. I'll smile at an office staff who clearly can't manage their own calendars. I'll pay for service that I have to accept because I can't (realistically) transfer anywhere else at this point. I'll schedule my next appointment with my fingers crossed.

Obviously I left work in a less than lovely mood.

Thanks to the coworker who was driving today, I was able to stop at the grocery store on the way home. While she was parking the car, the courtesy clerk came, took my crutches, and hooked me up with one of those beepy-wheely-carts (my first time with one). The clerk was friendly - laughing and helping me get situated. He even offered to have someone go around with me to reach the high shelves. 

When my driver joined me, she did the reaching for me. She insisted on searching for the wine I liked. She didn't mind when we had to schooch back to the entrance side of the store because I forgot an ingredient I needed for the one dish I'm actually cooking this week. She didn't judge when I also grabbed a frozen pizza and a mini-cheesecake. It was no big deal to her to help me out. 

And I felt much better when I left, still laughing about the wine & cheesecake. The courtesy clerk and my wonderful co-worker treated me like a person. A human, with feelings and needs and desires that matter. They treated me like I mattered.

Which, is the point of this very rambling post. Whatever you are doing, please, treat people like they matter. They really do. And your courtesy could turn around their whole day.

Anxiety weighs down the heart, but a kind word cheers it up. Proverbs 12:25 (Of course 12:16 leaves me feeling a bit foolish. Sigh. Always learning).

A Makeover with a Purpose (Acts 17:27-28)

There is a great bookstore in Portland, Oregon - Powell's City of Books. If you've been to Portland, you probably know of it. It's the kind of book store you could get lost in, for days. I honestly don't think I could go to Portland without stopping in.

I love it.

I also hate it.

As a writer, seeing all those books humbles me. Who am I to think I have an original thought? Who am I to aspire to sharing a shelf with Dickens or even Dixon? Who am I, indeed?

This is the time of year when I teach my little darlings to think about an author's purpose in writing. I show them how identifying an author's purpose will help you make greater connections to the text. First, we learn that most things are written either to inform, entertain, or persuade. Then, we go a little deeper.

Let me give you an example. You are, I hope, familiar with Dr. Seuss's Lorax. This excellent book was surely written to entertain. Yet, it has a very obvious greater purpose. The author served up a potent lesson in an entertaining package. Because of this, we all remember it.



Now, I love to write. But (you may have noticed) my writings often sound a bit like rambling. There really hadn't been a purpose shaping my content here.

A gentleman I know has dedicated his life to helping people "fall in love with God's word." He blogs, speaks, teaches, and writes all to this purpose. In fact, he's got a new book coming out soon that I'm quite excited about. I had a chance to preview it, and it's great (click here for a link to the book's launch page). Any article you read on his blog will be clearly connected to his purpose. You know what to expect when you click that link.

Did you honestly have any idea what to expect when you clicked my link today?

This blog used to be called "(In)significant thoughts." I've decided to take the advice of an old friend and start valuing myself more highly than that. My thoughts are not insignificant. They're just often disorganized, and rather ordinary. Yet, somehow everything I do, everything I am comes back to my relationship with God. Because that's the foundation of my existence.

So I gave the page a makeover, and a direction. This page is just the journal of ordinary girl, living an ordinary life, trying to make sense of it all. It's not my goal to preach, just to share my journey. If you find that even a little entertaining, informative, or persuasive, then I've accomplished my purpose.


God did this so that [we] would seek Him, and perhaps reach out and find Him, though he is not far from any of us. For in Him we live and move and have our being. -Acts 17:27-28

PS: The teacher-stuff is migrating to a separate blog. I'm hoping that will help me keep my focus. If you're a teacher, or into teaching things, check out There are No Mistakes @ http://onlythelessons.blogspot.com/.

by their love...

In honor of Valentine's Day, let me ask you a personal question.
How do you show love to your friends? (Not your spouse... I'll leave that for married bloggers to handle)!

Do you buy flowers? Candy?
Do you make cards? Or spend way too much time in the card aisle trying to find just the right words?
Do you plan a special time to spend together?
Do you hug?
Do you do "a little something extra" - like wash her car or cook his favorite meal?

Now... let me ask another.
What do you like best to receive from those who love you?
Be honest. Don't say "anything." What is it that really, really makes you grin? You know... that face-splitting, she's-spoiled-and-we-all-know-it smile you just can't dim?

Is it the same?

See... being on the slow road has given me a great chance to think about the ways people show love to their friends and neighbors. Giving love takes effort (the married people are backing me up on this right now)... even when it's "just" to your friends.

I've been incredibly blessed by people who've given of their time to help me. I know that giving time is an act of love. I couldn't "do" this, if it weren't for that generosity - the rides to and from work, to and from church... that's what I need most right now. So I'm thankful for the folks who are giving it.

Two other beautiful souls I know are recovering from major medical procedures. They can't DO anything they are used to doing. No work. No favorite hobbies. They have both been blessed beyond measure by the time their spouses, children, and grandchildren spend fussing over them.

But love doesn't come with a one-size-fits-all tag. Time isn't always the answer.

A recent divorcee I know burst into tears when someone hugged her at church. She hadn't been hugged since before her husband left... months ago. A simple touch was what she needed most, to feel like someone really cared about her.

I know another woman who, faced with a life-changing illness, found herself surrounded by plenty of  folks willing to help. However, she has savings & family, so she didn't really need help. What her family couldn't manage, they paid to have done. Unfortunately, when she didn't have anything for her friends to do, they drifted away, leaving her to fight the demons of despair and discouragement alone. All she really wants is for someone to tell her she still matters. Words of hope. Words of love.

And, if I'm being completely honest, I may need the gift of time, but it's not what makes me want to shout from the mountaintops. My favorite gift is service. I felt SUPER blessed those first few weeks, when my family reached out in so many different ways to smooth my path. Even before I was hurt, I loved it when a friend surprised me by washing my car while I was at work. Or helping me decorate my classroom.


So... this Valentine's Day, stop and chat with your neighbor. Let her know she matters.  Invite someone you haven't seen for a while out for a cup of coffee or a walk in the park. Give a friend a hug. Give a stranger a hug. Give your mother a hug. Offer to help someone with their chores, vacuum their car, or shovel their snowy driveway. Volunteer for a day of service in the community.

Step out of your comfort zone, and try a new way of showing you care. I bet it will make your day brighter.

Jesus said we needed to love our neighbors as ourselves. One of my favorite old Christian song declares "they will know we are Christians by our love" (click here to hear the Jars of Clay version).  Let's make that true.

If you haven't read it, I recommend Gary Chapman's 5 Love Languages. If you have, you probably recognized the ideas I shared here. I read the book years ago, when it was trending around book-clubs and small groups. Any content here that is too close for comfort must be really really good, because it's what stuck in my head. 

Time-OUT! (Mk 2:27)

A few weeks ago I made myself an outline of topics I wanted to write about for the next few weeks. My goal was to become more consistent, and to find a rhythm in my posting. I deliberately decided to ignore trickier issues like voice, relevance, and whether or not the world really needs another blogger. I enjoy writing, and I decided that it was my privilege to inflict my opinions on anyone crazy enough to read them. After all, if the title of this blog doesn't say "enter at your own risk," I think you  may want to revisit the definition of "insignificant."

So I have this outline. A to-do list, if you will.

This week was supposed to be about loving what you do. Burning the midnight oil. Having a passion for your job. It seemed like a good fit for a week that included parent-teacher conferences. I even got Jennie to make me some art! (Go, check out her website. She does some cool stuff).

I was right in theory. This week was exhausting. The midnight oil was burnt, refilled, and burnt again. I even wrote two posts about conferences earlier this week, just to vent. (Scroll down, they should be showing).

But now that the week is done, and I've survived, I'm not feeling very passionate about work. In fact, I'm feeling rather drained.

Which could be a problem, since the schedule says to write about passion.
Then again, maybe not. After all, true passion does leave us exhausted. Spent.
Perhaps because we are not able to live very long at that level of intensity. We have to have time to recharge. Reset.

God made us that way. He warned us to make time to rest. He specifically set aside one day in every week for unwinding. He even modeled it for us. "On the seventh day He rested." - Genesis 2:2.

I'm sure there's something God could have been doing that first Sabbath day. Something on His eternal to-do list. Something He could have been tweaking, improving, making better than "good." He did get right back to work on the 8th day, without an alarm clock or snooze alarm (though I'd like to believe He at least had some coffee!), because there was still plenty to be done.

That's the point, really. There's always more to be done. There's a huge gulf between "good enough" and "excellent." As much as I'd like to be excellent, all the time, at everything (and my mom will be happy to tell you I've always been that way), I'm learning that sometimes I have to accept "good enough."

So today's the day I'll rest and reset. I've already gone for a walk. I've read a book. I'm giving myself time and permission to just do whatever I want. Which will probably include folding the laundry and cleaning the kitchen, not because they are on some to-do list, or because they have to be done, but because having things clean and organized makes me feel rested.

Then tomorrow afternoon, when I take out my school-bag, I'll be able to feel the excited anticipation of renewed enthusiasm.

Thank you, Jesus, for reminding me of the real reason for the fourth commandment.

Then He said to them "The sabbath was made for man, not man for the sabbath."  -Mk2:27 (NIV)

conferring (part 2)

Well, hello there!

It's been a while since we first met on back-to-school night in August.

A lot has happened in the 11 school-weeks since.

We've worked hard on math, science, social studies, reading, writing, and all that other "stuff" we do each day. I'd love to tell you all about it, but we only have 20 minutes. So I'll spend that time focusing on whatever it is that really stands out for your child.

It might be the way he works so very hard each day. On everything. Neatly. I am so impressed.

It could be the way she seeks out opportunities to apply what were learning to everyday life.

I'm really quite excited about the way he makes connections between our lessons and his tv shows or video games, and I'm likely to tell you about that.  It shows he's listening and thinking!

I might tell you about how she assigns herself extra practice each night in her areas of weakness, and then corrects them herself in the morning. I enjoy the time she and I spend figuring out what kind of mistakes she made, because I know she will not make that same mistake next time.

I am really looking forward to this chance to share how your child welcomed a new student, or helped a struggler, or showed compassion for someone having a bad day.

Of course, it's also possible I may have to share something you don't want to hear.

I know it's hard for you to hear these things about your little angel. I realize it might not be the first time, and that you were hoping this year would be different. I understand. I really don't enjoy those moments, either.
I work very hard with your child to overcome any obstacles to his learning.
If I'm sharing a concern with you, please take me seriously.

When I say he struggles to pay attention, I really mean he needs several reminders per minute to stay on task.

When I say she tends to be a bit social, I mean that she's talking way too much in class. Her behavior is distracting others.

When I say he doesn't handle mistakes well, I mean that when I correct him for anything (behavior or academic) he crosses his arms and sulks, and is then unable to learn anything for the rest of the day.

I know you know exactly what I mean. I've only been working with your child for 11 weeks, after all. You've been there for 11 years.

So help me out. Don't take it personally. It's not about you.
It's about your little darling, and how we can, together, make this a great year!

One quarter down. Three to go. Let's make them count.

conferring (part 1)

Hi.
I'm so glad you could come to our fall conferences. I'm looking forward to this chance to discuss your child's progress in my class this far, and to set some goals for the rest of the year.

I would like to ask you a couple of favors.

1) Please be clear about which of your children we are discussing. That would be the one in my class. I'm sure your older/younger child/children are also cute. You probably have videos on your phone you'd like to share. However, this time is dedicated to one particular child. Let's honor that child with our full attention.

2) When I tell you that your child is giving excellent effort, but is still failing to meet the standard, please believe that I'm not sugar-coating. If junior wasn't giving excellent effort I would tell you. Do not tell him that you expect him to work harder, and to change from D's to A+'s in the next 7 weeks of school.  It's not likely to happen. Instead, let's talk about strategies we can all use to help him be more successful.

2b) Improving those grades will require hard work. There is no getting around it. I will help as much as I can, but you and your child will have to do your part. This may require longer homework/practice time and additional parent involvement. The change you want to see will not happen with LESS work. So please do not ask me to reduce the workload.

3) Math looks different now than it did when we were in school. I'll be happy to explain it to you. I'm not saying it is better this way - or that it was better before. We really don't have time to discuss this. It was not a decision I made.

4) When I tell you your child is struggling with communication...wait! Listen while I explain. I actually mean that she is not writing full answers to questions requiring explanations -in all subjects. I don't mean she interrupts. Sure, she might try to, but I don't tolerate that from my students. Of course, now I see where she gets it!

5) If your child is stressing out about something in my class, please come prepared to tell me. Don't make me drag it out of you. If I don't lead with that, chances are she is putting on a "game face" at school, and I don't see any of that angst. I can't help if I don't know.

6) Remember, I'm staying late for your convenience. Please be on time. Or call if you are delayed.

Thank you,
Your partner in education.

What being a Pirate taught me... (Prov. 2:4)

Last Friday marked the end of the first quarter of the 2012/2013 school year.

My teaching team and I decided to end on a bang.

5 of 7 teachers on my team, pirate-style! #6 was gone, and made it up the day she returned. #7... well...

We set aside the ordinary, and spent the day playing Pirates.

The kids still practiced the skills we've been working on. They reviewed an informational poster about pirates "then and now," and practiced their comparative skills. They read an article about deep-sea archaeology and practiced inferring. They "played" archaeologists and "dove" for artifacts which they used to deduce the origins, destination, and purpose of a ship "Captain Calamity" had sunk. They sequenced. They sorted. They read maps. They looked at slavery as a business, and made judgements. They evaluated risk vs. reward in deciding whether "Pirate Pete" should attack certain vessels. They used SMART cannons to review number-sense. They practiced dividing the booty and dealing with remainders. They explored the way water distorts light.  They dealt with issues of bullying and power; safety and responsibility; character and integrity.

They earned loot.

They laughed.

They had fun.

During our one-day adventure on the high-seas, my students worked harder and probably learned more than they had the rest of the week. And they loved it.

So did I. This is why I got into teaching. Because learning can be fun. Because facts ARE interesting. Because children need to be stretched, to grow and expand their world views, to learn to THINK through situations and actions.

Not to bore kids into submission.

Not to manage tests. 

Not to spend so much time on data collection and analysis that I don't have time to plan.

Not to be buried in unconnected curriculum designed to "help" students meet each of a hundred individual learning targets through "carefully designed, explicit instruction."

People who expect "carefully designed, explicit instruction," to be crafted for each one of the myriad skills students have to master, haven't listened to a child lately. Kids see the world differently. They desperately want things to connect. To make sense. 

Being a pirate for a day taught me that if we really want kids to learn, to enjoy learning, and to leave school with confidence, character, and competency, we may need some pirates to knock us off the course we've been sailing. There's treasure to be found.

Search for wisdom as if it were money. Hunt for it as if it were hidden treasure. Proverbs 2:4

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

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.

D-A-D-S. (Repost from father's day 2011).

Reposted in honor of my brother's first father's day.
You're turning out to be a pretty good dad, kiddo! Keep it up.  Your precious daughter is learning more than you can imagine, every day. 

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Today is the day we celebrate Dads.

Deciders

Answer-givers  

Dragon-slayers

Supporters

I remember when I was a kid there was a rustic, burnt-wood sign in our family room (suspiciously near the corner where I spent quality time when I was being 'lippy'  that said, "Anyone can be a father, but it takes someone special to be a daddy." At the time I thought it was just a cute play on words. As I grew up, I learned the real significance of that cheesy plaque.

Dads are the guys who stick around.

I've learned that dads are the real men. The men who make the hard choices. The men who put the needs of their children ahead of their own wants. The men who work extra hours to buy barbies and bycicles and prom dresses. The men who listen to endless stories about strange children and stranger tv shows. The men who teach their children to catch a ball, to drive, and to dance.

The men who are there.

As frustrating as it is for moms, it seems to be dad's praise that kids crave most. It's generally dad's approval they seek. It's dad's time that is most precious.



Perhaps that's because (for most of us) mom's love is a given. She is there. She is constant. She bore us. It's too easy to take her for granted (I'm not saying we should, but this is Father's day). Deep down, we all know dad had a choice.

Whether they know it or not, whether they accept it or not, whether we accept it or not, our dads represent our first impression of God, our heavenly Father.

Is it any wonder that some people turn from God, when their own fathers turn from them? That they fear God, when their own fathers hurt them? That they cannot trust God, because their own fathers betrayed them? This note is not for the rotten or evil dads. They are distortions; selfish shadows filling the world with hurt and hate. We don't celebrate them.

This is for the other ones. The ones who do the best they can. The ones we honor today.

The ones who teach us to see and hear God through the things they say and do.

Dad says "I want to hear your good news. I want to celebrate with you. I want to hug and high-five and shout when you succeed. I will cheer loudest at your victories and embarrass you with my joy."

Dad says "I want to be there for you during the hard times. I want to help you in any way I can. I want to fix everything so that you never have to suffer. Some things I cannot fix. I'm sorry - more sorry than you can know. But know that seeing you suffer hurts me, too."

Dad says "I want to keep you safe. I worry about you all the time. I will always protect you any way I can. And if the mean, ugly things of the world hurt you anyway, come to me. I will help you heal."

Dad says "No matter what you've done, I'm here. I'd give my life for you." 

 Dad says "I know there are things you cannot do. Let me help. I want to help."

Dad says "I want to give you everything you wish for. Sometimes I can't, but I want to. I want you to have it all. Anything I have - just ask."

Dad says "My greatest joy is seeing you. I love hearing your voice. I like seeing your face. Make room for me in your life."

Dad says "I love you, no matter what."

The card says: "Smile, 'cause Dad says so."

Thanks, dad(s) for being there. 

God is smiling on you. 

He likes what you're teaching us to hear.

(Repost) Wanderers!

I originally posted this in the summer of 2009 on facebook. Reposted because... well... summer's coming!

So...

If you know me well at all, then you know that I grew up in a family of wanderers. Nomads. Gypsies. Whatever you want to call it, we are a people who don't know how to stay put. If you don't know me well (yet), perhaps the easiest way to sum it up is to say I attended 10 schools from grade six through grade 12. I'm not an "army brat." I'm blue-collar, and proud of it. Mom's a waitress. Dad's in construction. We follow the work. Sometimes this requires a very "flexible" lifestyle.

From all that wandering, I learned some valuable lessons.

1) There is a correct way to load a moving van. There is also a correct way to drive one.
2) Home is people, not places.
3) Everywhere is somewhere. Enjoy it. Your life is someone else's vacation destination.
4) Keep a book handy. They don't need to be plugged in, charged up, or properly loaded. They don't interfere with other people's conversation. You decide when to "play." There is no time limit. If you loose one it's not the end of the world.
5) There is no thing you own that you cannot replace. Some are just harder to find than others. Searching for them can be fun, too.
6) Real friends keep in touch, even if only once-in-a-while.
7) You'd be surprised how far you can stretch $5 when you really need to.
8) A plan is helpful. Trusting in the plan makes all the difference.

I also learned that it's okay to take risks. Sometimes things don't go quite the way you'd hoped. That's frustrating. Annoying. Depressing. Ultimately, though, you will survive. You'll come out on the other side with another great story to tell.

This recession has been hard on construction. Waitresses, too. There hasn't been steady work for months, so it's time to move on. Time for a fresh start in a new place. Actually, not so new. They're heading back to the North East, where they both grew up. Because there hasn't been much work, they made a tough call to try to sell the furniture instead of moving it with them. I know how hard that decision was. A lot of it hasn't sold yet. That makes it even harder. There is no fairy godmother to turn the furniture into gasoline along the way. Still, they need to go, so they'll make do with what they've got. I believe they will be fine. They always are.

My folks are some of the bravest people I know. This year they turn 50. They've been together for 20+ years now. Some folks mark these milestones with roots firmly planted, branches spread, settled in to rest and survey a familiar landscape. Not my folks. They pack up. Pick up. Move out. Don't hesitate (much). Do what it takes.

That's what I want to be like when I'm 50.

BOLD.

The Magic of Numbers

I teach humanities to middle-schoolers. That means I spend my days trying to make groups of about twenty-six 11 year-olds care about reading strategies, grammar, writing fluency, and history. If you've never done that, you should try it sometime. It's very ... entertaining.

I have to say though, that this weekend, it's math that is fascinating me. Specifically subtraction.You see, this week included one of my top-ten favorite days in the school year.The orchestra field trip.
Wait.
What?
Why does a reading teacher care about that? And what has a music field-trip to do with subtraction?

Well... let me explain.
At my school, all students take music. There are three choices - band, vocal, and orchestra. Since my students are the "babies" of the building (meaning it's their first year with us), they get to choose more freely, based on their interest and curiosity, not talent (or lack of). Which means they are pretty evenly split. Typically, about 1/3 of my class signs up for each musical discipline.

So, when the orchestra takes their annual field trip, I loose about 1/3 of my class for half the day.

Why is this a good thing?
Because of subtraction.
You see, in teaching, size really does matter.

With only 16 kids instead of 25 in my morning group, I was able to work with EVERY STUDENT IN THE ROOM for a few minutes that morning. Instead of trying to help a collective group of 11 year-olds extrapolate their personal struggles from a general lesson, I could get right to the issue and set each of them a task to help him/her move forward with what he/she needed. The kids who were "getting it," could work on enriching their understanding - and could check in with me if the going got too tough. The kids who weren't got more time with me to revisit and review the core concept. Even the kid who sometimes makes me want to crawl under a desk and hide learned something that morning.

He proved it, that afternoon, when the kids who were present in the morning got to "teach" the lesson to those orchestra kids who missed it (who caught up pretty easily because they were motivated). He was so proud of himself!

I think it was that student who prompted me to write this post. Because for him, even more than for me, size mattered. With a smaller class he got the attention he needed to actually learn something.

As citizens and voters, we need to remember that. One or two extra kids might not seem like a big deal, but they are. They add up quickly. That one kid who needed a little extra help? He might be yours.

"What's the motto with you?"

Mottos are funny things. You don't really choose them. They find you. Mine turned up on a ring I found in the clearance bin. A ring that just happened to fit my fat fingers, and was a style I like. Perfect.

It was also a perfect reminder of the mindset I'd decided to cultivate in this season of my life. Having finally recognized it was past time to stop wishing for things God clearly didn't want me to have yet (husband, children, a home with a view), I knew I needed to shift my focus to the life I actually have.


When I took the time to really look, I had to admit, the life I'm living is chock-full-o-blessings. I have a cute and roomy apartment in a wonderful suburban community. The kind of suburb that still has trees everywhere and no street lights. The kind that has apple-squeezes and Fourth of July parades and daddy-daughter dances at the community center. If I take a nice healthy walk, I can enjoy one of the best views around.

No, I'm not in the boonies, either. With my lovely car (another blessing, thankyouverymuch), and 20 minutes time, I can be just about anywhere. Work. Shopping. A variety of tasty restaurants. Movie theaters. Community theaters. Coffee shops (okay, those are less than 5 mins away - another blessing!).

I travel. That's something I'd have to do a lot less of if I had kids. I know, because my kid sister has 2 kids. I count them in my blessings, too. Even though they live on the other side of the country, I get to see them every year. Usually at a beach or pool. Joy!

My brother added another little blessing to the family last year. He's in a slightly different (though still far away) direction, so visiting him gives me a different vacation experience.

I have a steady job that I usually find pretty rewarding. In this day and age, that's a big blessing. I can pay my bills and still have a little "mad money" to play with. I know I should save more, and I'm working on that (but travel's just so much fun!). Even so, I don't feel stressed out, and that's a blessing.

My relationships are my biggest blessings, though. I get along well with my family. I have more good friends in my life today than many people have in a lifetime. My small-friends invite me to their birthday parties, school plays, concerts, and celebrations. We go ice-skating and do fun projects. Sometimes we even sneak off to McDonalds. My other friends (the grownups) like to have me over to rearrange their homes, cook (and eat) dinner, watch movies or tv, play stupid games (or dance to the wii!) and sometimes even solve a murder. I don't have to car-shop, eat out, or go to the movies alone unless I want to. I can borrow a cup of sugar (or a crock-pot) at just about any hour of the day or night. There's always somewhere to go, something to do, and someone to do it with. In fact, sometimes I have to schedule time home to do my laundry!

In short, I really do love the life I live. I just needed a little reminder.
A good motto will help you re-frame your world. Find one.

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.