I have been praying the Alcoholics Anonymous prayer, also known as the Serenity prayer.
"God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change. The courage to change the things I can. And the wisdom to know the difference."
I have read that prayer dozens of time - thought it was a beautiful sentiment and moved on. That prayer isn't for me. There's nothing that cannot be changed. Identify the problem. Develop a plan of action. Execute. Problem Solved. Move on to next problem. Change occurs every day if you work hard enough, follow the chain of command, and model the solution.
It seems lately I keep running into situations where there is a brick wall. The walls won't move. It ticks me off. I push a little harder. I look around and ask am I the only one seeing this wall? I look at the wall from different angles and think of how it can be taken down brick by brick. The wall has got to go.
It stays. The prayer takes on a different meaning for me. I don't doubt that change will come. I am just now learning to accept that I won't be the one to drive the wrecking ball through the wall. We're giving the MAP test at my school. I remember listening to my first principal talk to me about MAP scores 16 years ago when I asked him if I could teach reading in guided reading groups. He asked me if I thought it would help MAP scores. I remember thinking in my head I really don't care. I did not become a teacher to help students pass a test. I became a teacher because I love to read and I know teachers can change lives. I've written my Congress members, commented on Facebook posts trying to educate the public, voted for like-minded politicians, started following DESE on Twitter (so far they haven't given me one gold star), but the conversation still comes down to one test. I want to beat this wall senseless.
I see the walls, and I am asking God about it. Are you wanting me to shut up, climb over it, or just bust it down? Please don't make me live with it. 1 John 3:20 tells us "that God is greater than our hearts, and he knows everything." He knows why those walls are there even when I don't, and this is where serenity is needed most: the state of being calm, peaceful, and untroubled. Serenity when I feel the complete opposite. I love the thought though that He knows when the wrecking ball will deliver its fatal blow. So I am tacking on a little something to the serenity prayer. Please let me live long enough to see change come. Amen!
Thursday, May 7, 2015
Wednesday, March 4, 2015
Could Have Been
I could have been a mother of teenager today. Truthfully, I cannot wrap my mind around that.
At that 18 week ultrasound, when our dreams were completely crushed, we were offered an abortion. You could say faith or naivety prompted our refusal. To this day, those six months of our lives were the hardest days of our 41 years. Yet, our answer would be the same.
If things had gone differently, we could have been parents to 4 or 6 children like we planned on a Harding swing. Now that I think about it, my life is full of could have beens.
Maybe yours is too. Could have been are three little words that create a big trap. We all have roads not taken either by choice or circumstance. Regret creates a jail without escape. If you are sitting in one of those cells right now, you will find this hard to believe. I am grateful for all my could have beens that weren't.
You may not be there yet, but your could have beens are bringing you something better. That's almost harsh to someone who is hurting, I know. The could have been seems like the only thing you want and the only thing that will stop the pain. And here it comes - BUT, your tears will be dried and your heart will be put back together. You will see your could have been mirrored in someone else's life, and it won't stab you with jealousy. One day, your heart will hold so much joy that you marvel at its capacity to regenerate. Your blessings are being multiplied by your could have beens.
Lauran is my greatest could have been, and I know my today is better because she was.
At that 18 week ultrasound, when our dreams were completely crushed, we were offered an abortion. You could say faith or naivety prompted our refusal. To this day, those six months of our lives were the hardest days of our 41 years. Yet, our answer would be the same.
If things had gone differently, we could have been parents to 4 or 6 children like we planned on a Harding swing. Now that I think about it, my life is full of could have beens.
Maybe yours is too. Could have been are three little words that create a big trap. We all have roads not taken either by choice or circumstance. Regret creates a jail without escape. If you are sitting in one of those cells right now, you will find this hard to believe. I am grateful for all my could have beens that weren't.
You may not be there yet, but your could have beens are bringing you something better. That's almost harsh to someone who is hurting, I know. The could have been seems like the only thing you want and the only thing that will stop the pain. And here it comes - BUT, your tears will be dried and your heart will be put back together. You will see your could have been mirrored in someone else's life, and it won't stab you with jealousy. One day, your heart will hold so much joy that you marvel at its capacity to regenerate. Your blessings are being multiplied by your could have beens.
Lauran is my greatest could have been, and I know my today is better because she was.
Sunday, January 11, 2015
Happy Birthday, Dad!
I couldn't tell you who I am more alike - my mom or my dad. I like to think that I am the best of both of them. My dad turns 66 today. Since he has far outlived his own predictions of life expectancy, I dare not wait to share this.
My walk of faith wouldn't be the same without my dad. If you don't have a faith or participate in church, your view of those who do so may be skewed towards a popular opinion that all Christians pretend to be perfect. One of the things I love most about my dad is that he has never hid his mistakes. He'll be the first to tell you that he has made some big ones. He would also be the first to tell you that we serve an AMAZING GOD who forgives over and over. By allowing me to see him fall, dust himself off, and start over reminds me to do the same and to let go of the idea that in order to love God, we must be perfect. It's really in our mistakes that God reveals His perfection.
I am passionate about two things (besides family) - God and teaching. I like to think that I have been given the gift of vision (some might say arrogance) to see what needs to be done, how it needs to be done, and who needs do it. I have to say right now that I am grateful for my family and friends who love me even when I get fired up and share such visions. They're not always popular if you can imagine it. Both my mom and dad are wonderful listeners, and they both have their own response style to those visions. My dad responds in one of two ways: "Keep speaking up until someone listens. You are fighting the good fight." or "Does this really matter? Is it going to change your walk or Tony's or Parker's or Macy's or someone else's? Do your students need you to fight this battle? If you can't say yes, walk away. It's not your fight." Either response gives me courage.
My dad dreams bigger dreams for me than I dream for myself. Throughout my whole life, both my mom and dad have told me over and over that I can do it. Now as an adult and a parent, I have a deeper appreciation of those words. There a plenty of people who delight in other's failures. Joy robbers are everywhere. It's rare to hear an adult tell another adult - "You can do this. It's in your reach." But at 40 years old, both my parents still tell me that I can do it whatever it may be. My dad will randomly call me and say "Jenny, I think you should ______________. You have a gift." In full disclosure, I roll my eyes and say "Sure, dad. I've got time for that." But it is nice to know that someone is dreaming for me. Then I turn to God and think how narrow my view of what I can do is compared to what God can do through me, and I have to wonder if maybe my dad is right after all. I CAN do it.
Dad's end of life and funeral talk has become a running joke in our family. Dad has always been aware that his dad died so very young and heart problems run in his family history. Obviously, he has outlived his predictions. Even in this, I see God. No matter how old we get, God is always at work in us to help us produce good works.
May you continue to produce good work, Dad! I love you!
Tuesday, December 9, 2014
Is love alive?
The ten o'clock news answers no. Just last night, two teens trail an UPS truck stealing packages off people's front porches. A mother stabs her 19 month old to death. St. Louis homicide number keeps rising with two more murders. There is no love.
Then in the last few weeks, the news and social media has blown up with images of the tension in our streets. Yelling, vandalism, looting all testify that there is no love.
People everywhere are struggling with something. Many feel alone and without hope. Is love alive? The darkness lies and answers no, love has died.
How can I possibly know that is a lie and not the truth? How can I reject that love has died when the evidence points to the very fact - love cannot be found?
Because I see you.
I see my coworkers give of themselves. Donating money to a family whose children (yes, that is right - plural) are battling cancer. I see them buy sodas as a special prize. I see them take care of mother-in-laws who are sick. I see hugs given every day. In big and small ways, they always answer yes when someone asks or they recognize a need for help. I see love.
I sit next to my friend while our daughters are in dance class. She visits a home of a single mom who just had a baby and has nothing under the tree for her other children. She asks if our small group can pull off Christmas for the children. Absolutely. It is never too late to help out. I feel love.
Encouraging texts come through my phone every morning. I read love.
I look around at church this past Sunday morning, and I know we are a broken people. But I see people being healed by love. I see the people I "do life" with. I am surrounded by love.
A star in the dark night sky alerted the Magi that love had come in the form of a baby. His love drives out the darkness and replaces it with light.
Is love alive? Yes, yes it is.
Wednesday, November 12, 2014
The Master
"No one can serve two masters. Either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and Money." Matthew 6:24-25 I have never felt connected to this verse. I didn't understand the frustration that comes from trying to serve two masters until now.
I was so fresh out of college that I might as well have worn my graduation gown to the interview. I didn't know much. In fact, I didn't know anything about the programs the district used to implement the Texas objectives. But in a crowded room and sensing that my name was about to be scratched off the list, I made eye contact with the principal and said: "You will never regret hiring me. Thank you for the opportunity to interview for a position." Three days later, I became a first grade teacher. I knew from the very beginning what I wanted to accomplish. I wanted a classroom full of readers and students, who when they left my classroom, never stopped wanting to learn.
A lot has happened since then. Benchmarks and tests were important 18 years ago, but now they have become a master. They believe each child is a number and that number better grow. They want readers who can annotate a text and provide evidence to support their answer. They want students to defend absolutes. They don't ask if the child willingly picks up a book to read. They don't ask if the child has a favorite author. They don't ask to see the math problems a number-loving child writes in his math journal. They don't ask how a child feels about coming to school. Those things can't be quantified.
As teachers, we constantly question how to please the master. We wrestle with the costs the master requires and if we can pay the price. Last year, I drove myself crazy trying to please that master. I felt defeated and empty at the end of the year. I took the summer to reflect and contemplate other career choices. But I decided to return to the classroom that has been my home for the last 15 years. I told myself that I would honor the master, but I would see my students for who they were - the little girl celebrating her birthday, the boy who tells me he goes without lunch on the weekends, the students who clap when I finish reading a book to them. I would not turn them into numbers on a spreadsheet. The last two weeks I have been giving benchmarks, grading them, and entering scores into a spreadsheet. The master tells me that many of my students have failed so, therefore, I too have failed.
I refuse to believe it. My room is full of readers and students, who I hope and pray, will always love to learn.
I was so fresh out of college that I might as well have worn my graduation gown to the interview. I didn't know much. In fact, I didn't know anything about the programs the district used to implement the Texas objectives. But in a crowded room and sensing that my name was about to be scratched off the list, I made eye contact with the principal and said: "You will never regret hiring me. Thank you for the opportunity to interview for a position." Three days later, I became a first grade teacher. I knew from the very beginning what I wanted to accomplish. I wanted a classroom full of readers and students, who when they left my classroom, never stopped wanting to learn.
A lot has happened since then. Benchmarks and tests were important 18 years ago, but now they have become a master. They believe each child is a number and that number better grow. They want readers who can annotate a text and provide evidence to support their answer. They want students to defend absolutes. They don't ask if the child willingly picks up a book to read. They don't ask if the child has a favorite author. They don't ask to see the math problems a number-loving child writes in his math journal. They don't ask how a child feels about coming to school. Those things can't be quantified.
As teachers, we constantly question how to please the master. We wrestle with the costs the master requires and if we can pay the price. Last year, I drove myself crazy trying to please that master. I felt defeated and empty at the end of the year. I took the summer to reflect and contemplate other career choices. But I decided to return to the classroom that has been my home for the last 15 years. I told myself that I would honor the master, but I would see my students for who they were - the little girl celebrating her birthday, the boy who tells me he goes without lunch on the weekends, the students who clap when I finish reading a book to them. I would not turn them into numbers on a spreadsheet. The last two weeks I have been giving benchmarks, grading them, and entering scores into a spreadsheet. The master tells me that many of my students have failed so, therefore, I too have failed.
I refuse to believe it. My room is full of readers and students, who I hope and pray, will always love to learn.
Monday, August 11, 2014
It's Possible
Dark, gloomy skies loomed overhead as eight gray lanes stretched ahead on our drive to church Sunday morning. The stretch of I-70 through St. Charles could use a makeover. I was looking around trying to find one redeeming factor, and all of a sudden I noticed a sharp green weed growing through a crack. Then tons of weeds sprouting up through drainage bars. Mile after mile, slivers of green go unnoticed. I laughed to myself thinking isn't that just like God?
In the middle of divorce, we think we won't love again. But we do. In the middle of loss, we think we can never laugh again. But we do. In the middle of job searching, we think we will never find one. But we do. In the middle of gross injustices, we think peace will never come. But it will. Our God is the God of the impossible.
Whatever circumstances you are in, whatever circumstances our city is in, whatever circumstances our friends across the ocean are in, our God can take our worst and turn into our best. "For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you, declares the Lord." (Jeremiah 29:11-14)
In the middle of divorce, we think we won't love again. But we do. In the middle of loss, we think we can never laugh again. But we do. In the middle of job searching, we think we will never find one. But we do. In the middle of gross injustices, we think peace will never come. But it will. Our God is the God of the impossible.
Whatever circumstances you are in, whatever circumstances our city is in, whatever circumstances our friends across the ocean are in, our God can take our worst and turn into our best. "For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you, declares the Lord." (Jeremiah 29:11-14)
Wednesday, July 23, 2014
Back in the Habit
I haven't written since Pa died. I can only write what is on my heart and that was where Pa was. Grief is a personal experience, and I didn't want my feelings to hurt any of my family or share something that they would want held private. Then I got out of the habit, and no one seemed to miss it so I put it on a shelf.
I have had an amazing 3 days attending Franklin Covey's 7 Habits of Successful People. I've used their book, Leader in Me, in my classroom this past year. It's good stuff. The training was looking at ourselves and how to apply the habits to our personal lives. Now, I LOVE personality quizzes and self-reflection. I get that's not everyone's cup of tea and that's fine too. But bear with me. Going through all of that self-reflection, I realized that I love to write. It brings me clarity and peace. I realized in the past that I wanted to encourage others with my writing and never realized that I was encouraging myself in the process. I need that in my life, and I am ok sharing that with you. :)
I have had an amazing 3 days attending Franklin Covey's 7 Habits of Successful People. I've used their book, Leader in Me, in my classroom this past year. It's good stuff. The training was looking at ourselves and how to apply the habits to our personal lives. Now, I LOVE personality quizzes and self-reflection. I get that's not everyone's cup of tea and that's fine too. But bear with me. Going through all of that self-reflection, I realized that I love to write. It brings me clarity and peace. I realized in the past that I wanted to encourage others with my writing and never realized that I was encouraging myself in the process. I need that in my life, and I am ok sharing that with you. :)
Saturday, April 20, 2013
How much can a heart take?
The youngest son growing up on a Texas farm.
He serves with three of his brothers in the military. One does not come home.
He meets a senior, who is 16, at the bus stop in west Texas. He drives her heart straight to the church. They're married.
They're the first to leave the farm for the big city - Kansas City with 2 children in tow.
Their third is born there.
He does the unthinkable for the times - cooks dinner and grocery shops. If times are good, he brings home a Mr. Goodbar.
His wife is ambitious. She wants to sell real estate. He doesn't say no or tells her that women don't own their own businesses. He does what it takes.
He is a man of few words. But when he speaks, everyone listens.
He lets his oldest granddaughter believe he moonlights as Jim Davis, Garfield author. She tells her whole third grade class that she's related to Garfield.
A smoker since the military. He quits cold turkey. The youngest granddaughter finally did what the others could not - convince him to quit.
He is told to get his house in order. He has cancer. 26 years later, he laughs.
The family has never seen him cry until his first great granddaughter dies.
His wife loses her memory. He spends every day telling her how to do the simplest things and answers her questions over and over...
Now, he tells his stories all the time...Get comfortable. You will be listening for a while.
So when the VA doctor tells my parents that he doesn't know how much a heart can hold, I know he speaks the truth. He just doesn't know the size of my Pa's heart.
He serves with three of his brothers in the military. One does not come home.
He meets a senior, who is 16, at the bus stop in west Texas. He drives her heart straight to the church. They're married.
They're the first to leave the farm for the big city - Kansas City with 2 children in tow.
Their third is born there.
He does the unthinkable for the times - cooks dinner and grocery shops. If times are good, he brings home a Mr. Goodbar.
His wife is ambitious. She wants to sell real estate. He doesn't say no or tells her that women don't own their own businesses. He does what it takes.
He is a man of few words. But when he speaks, everyone listens.
He lets his oldest granddaughter believe he moonlights as Jim Davis, Garfield author. She tells her whole third grade class that she's related to Garfield.
A smoker since the military. He quits cold turkey. The youngest granddaughter finally did what the others could not - convince him to quit.
He is told to get his house in order. He has cancer. 26 years later, he laughs.
The family has never seen him cry until his first great granddaughter dies.
His wife loses her memory. He spends every day telling her how to do the simplest things and answers her questions over and over...
Now, he tells his stories all the time...Get comfortable. You will be listening for a while.
So when the VA doctor tells my parents that he doesn't know how much a heart can hold, I know he speaks the truth. He just doesn't know the size of my Pa's heart.
Friday, April 5, 2013
Half Way There
Nine years ago, I never pictured this sweet little baby having an attitude or always trying to become a third person in a grown-up conversation. God is smart that way.
Now, I want to remember year 8 for a lot of reasons.
Sadly, this is the first year that a peer has said something ugly to him. Most moms would want to forget that, but I want to remember his shock that ugliness exists. And I'm grateful that he made it this far before he realized ugliness could be aimed at him.
I want to remember stopping at Wendy's after Macy's dance class, I am finishing getting the order and Parker volunteered to get the table. With all of four customers there, I was amazed at the urgency he had. He picks a table next to a grandma and her daughter. I hear him greet them and carry on a whole conversation. I am worried that he might be intruding on their privacy and a little concerned that he doesn't have any fear talking to strangers. When I come over, the lady compliments me on what a nice son I have - how nice to see a young man who so friendly and polite, she says.
I also want to remember that this is the first year Parker played basketball. My favorite game was not Parker's last game when he scored his first points. It's two games before that when Parker was defending a boy who made him look small. Parker is in the 85th percentile for his height so you can imagine how big that boy was. But Parker didn't act intimidated - he stayed on him with his arms high and the big boy never scored. After the game, Parker revealed that when they lined up, the big boy told him he might as well quit. Parker replied "Never!" Tony and I high- fived him and told him he was exactly right. He never gives up even when facing a Goliath.
I want to remember that this is the year that Parker started talking about wanting to be baptized. The best conversation we had was when we were driving home from school and Parker wanted to know why we didn't observe Lent. I was explaining (to the best of my humble ability) that the Bible doesn't command us to celebrate Lent and how it is a tradition for several faiths. He then jokingly listed things he would be happy to give up - homework, brushing his teeth, and so forth. I then told him for people who believe, Lent is every day. "We give up we want and try to do what God wants. Getting baptized means that you are making a public commitment that you love God and will live a unselfish life. At 8, you haven't had many opportunities to be selfish, but as you get older, there will be plenty." Parker came up with a few examples and then I pointed out that when he's in high school at a party, someone will offer him a beer. "The selfish thing would be to take it so you can fit in. You might even get in a car later - another selfish act that could hurt you and someone else. Being unselfish is never easy. But the Bible tells us it is better to never have made the commitment than to make the commitment and return to being selfish. Do Daddy and I sometimes do the selfish thing? Yes, but it makes us sick instead of happy. So we have to ask for forgiveness and try to do better." By then, we were home and Parker was happy to come inside and veg out for a little while. A few days later, we are driving home from school again and Parker tells me, "Mom, I did an unselfish thing today." "Really? What was it?" In my mind, I'm trying to guess at what small thing he did. "I left the cool table at lunch and I went to the uncool table. I sat next to _________ who no one likes and everyone makes fun of and he is always sitting by himself at lunch." Simultaneously, I am thinking that since when did third grade have cool tables/uncool tables? He was really listening!!!! What happened then? The last question I asked. "A couple of boys started yelling at me and asking what was I doing setting next to ___________. I told them he was my friend too." "Then what?" A couple of the other kids got up and sat down next to me. So Mom, that's what I am giving up - the cool table." Blinking back tears, I told him, "I am so proud of you!"
After watching a Duck Dynasty episode, where Si finds "the sweet spot" at the pizza place, Parker picks to go to Chucky Cheese with his grandparents for his family fun birthday activity. He quickly finds his own "sweet spot" and with laser-like focus amasses a ton of of tickets - over a thousand. He goes to the prize counter while the rest of us help Macy spend her tokens. I keep glancing up to check up on him and think we could be here forever before he spends all those. A couple of minutes later, he walks up to me with one item in his hand. "Whatcha get?" He flashes me a girls' set of play jewelry and a headband. "I got this for Macy. She doesn't have a prayer of getting 1,000 tickets." Then he walks over to her, and I hear Macy say " YOU got this for ME? Thank you, Parker! You're the best brother ever!" I always want to remember how he surprises me with his unselfishness and the joy I heard in Macy's voice.
Nine years of hearing the sound of thunder as he comes down the stairs, stepping on Lego pieces, asking him if he brushed his teeth. All these things that we may get frustrated by, I know we will be wishing for when he is grown.
Monday, March 4, 2013
Prayers of My Past
In 2002, the first prayer was for life. Not mine. But for Lauran's. Let the doctor's be able to fix what is wrong and let her live a long life. Through her 53 days of life, I finally understood two scriptures - to pray without ceasing and to pray without words. I also came to understand that I didn't change God's will through prayer, He changes mine.
In 2003, the prayer was to see first the beauty of my life rather than the pain of my life. I watched myself celebrate every holiday, do mundane things, and marvel at mothers who casually walked through the mall with their babies in their stroller. I prayed for God to let me live a vibrant life instead of a shadow of a life.
Help me live the kind of life I would have wanted Lauran to have.
In 2004, I prayed for faith. We were one month away from having a baby boy. Help me believe that the doctors are right. He's healthy. There's nothing wrong. Help me believe this gift of a healthy baby could be ours.
In 2005, 2006, and 2007, I have prayed with exaltation. How blessed are we to have a beautiful, healthy baby growing and growing. The desire of my heart fulfilled. How GREAT are you God!
In 2008, I prayed for deliverance. I'm in the first trimester and find myself more scared than ever before. I have tasted the sweetness of life, and I am shamefully scared that I will have to face the bitterness again.
In 2009, my prayer of thanksgiving overwhelms me. We may face other trials, but nothing compares to the trial of loss. And I know, without a doubt, God will not abandon us.
And so the prayers go in 2010, 2011, and 2012. In every past prayer, and today's, and I imagine, every future prayer, God knows I miss her.
So on this day, I say a prayer of gratitude that sometimes I am given a glimpse of the bigger picture. Throughout these 11 years, I've watched others bear the loss of a child. Yet through their heartache, they have remained married. Some have borne healthy children. Some have adopted children. Some lovingly serve children. In their lives, I see such grace and beauty. So today, my prayer is for those mothers. I am so thankful that they have been given the desires of their heart and that they allowed me to bear witness. I thank God for them and for babies present and babies past.
In 2003, the prayer was to see first the beauty of my life rather than the pain of my life. I watched myself celebrate every holiday, do mundane things, and marvel at mothers who casually walked through the mall with their babies in their stroller. I prayed for God to let me live a vibrant life instead of a shadow of a life.
Help me live the kind of life I would have wanted Lauran to have.
In 2004, I prayed for faith. We were one month away from having a baby boy. Help me believe that the doctors are right. He's healthy. There's nothing wrong. Help me believe this gift of a healthy baby could be ours.
In 2005, 2006, and 2007, I have prayed with exaltation. How blessed are we to have a beautiful, healthy baby growing and growing. The desire of my heart fulfilled. How GREAT are you God!
In 2008, I prayed for deliverance. I'm in the first trimester and find myself more scared than ever before. I have tasted the sweetness of life, and I am shamefully scared that I will have to face the bitterness again.
In 2009, my prayer of thanksgiving overwhelms me. We may face other trials, but nothing compares to the trial of loss. And I know, without a doubt, God will not abandon us.
And so the prayers go in 2010, 2011, and 2012. In every past prayer, and today's, and I imagine, every future prayer, God knows I miss her.
So on this day, I say a prayer of gratitude that sometimes I am given a glimpse of the bigger picture. Throughout these 11 years, I've watched others bear the loss of a child. Yet through their heartache, they have remained married. Some have borne healthy children. Some have adopted children. Some lovingly serve children. In their lives, I see such grace and beauty. So today, my prayer is for those mothers. I am so thankful that they have been given the desires of their heart and that they allowed me to bear witness. I thank God for them and for babies present and babies past.
Thursday, October 4, 2012
With a little grace
I went into work this morning at 7:15 and left at 9 at night. I am sitting on the couch without one ounce of energy. It was a rough day - students needing more from me than reading, writing, and arithmetic. I have a young lady in my room who is fresh out of college, and I look at her every day and wonder what in her schooling prepared her for the real world. Professors can talk about theory. Professional development can offer up even more strategies.
But no one can really answer why children are struggling. Academics are not always the challenge. It certainly wasn't today. People can often excuse behavior with a label. The longer I teach, the more aware I become that children, regardless of intelligence or socioeconomic status, have no idea how to treat one another. They can be so quick to point out the faults of others, but can offer up a multitude of excuses for their own behavior. I am standing in the hallway feeling sickened by their double standards and ask if anyone knows what grace is. None of them did. Grace, I tell them, is giving one another a break even when they don't think their classmate deserves one. I turned to one boy and I asked, "Do I give you a consequence every time you blurt out?" He sadly shook his head no. I turned to another one and asked "Do I refuse to repeat the directions for a fourth time because you didn't listen to the first three times?" He shook his head no. "That's what grace is. Choosing to give someone a break even when they are on your last nerve. Show each other some grace, please."
I foolishly thought when I was that young girl fresh from college that I would change the world. I know now that the world was too lofty a goal. I'm just trying to change one child at a time with a little grace.
But no one can really answer why children are struggling. Academics are not always the challenge. It certainly wasn't today. People can often excuse behavior with a label. The longer I teach, the more aware I become that children, regardless of intelligence or socioeconomic status, have no idea how to treat one another. They can be so quick to point out the faults of others, but can offer up a multitude of excuses for their own behavior. I am standing in the hallway feeling sickened by their double standards and ask if anyone knows what grace is. None of them did. Grace, I tell them, is giving one another a break even when they don't think their classmate deserves one. I turned to one boy and I asked, "Do I give you a consequence every time you blurt out?" He sadly shook his head no. I turned to another one and asked "Do I refuse to repeat the directions for a fourth time because you didn't listen to the first three times?" He shook his head no. "That's what grace is. Choosing to give someone a break even when they are on your last nerve. Show each other some grace, please."
I foolishly thought when I was that young girl fresh from college that I would change the world. I know now that the world was too lofty a goal. I'm just trying to change one child at a time with a little grace.
Monday, October 1, 2012
Two Months worth of Hits and Misses
Going back to work may cramp my blog time, but thankfully doesn't interfere with us trying out new recipes.
Hands down, best grilling recipe ever!!!! It's now my favorite!
Grilled Bruschetta Chicken
I am constantly searching for yummy crockpot recipes. Sadly, this one was very bland. If you are one of those people who can improvise on a recipe than this one would be a great starting point. It needs a little umph.
Slow Cooker Cheesy Chicken and Rice
You can say what you want about his quarterback form or his beliefs, but this family knows pizza! We've had this both months. It makes the perfect Friday night meal!
Tim Tebow's Family Pizza
It always makes me nervous when pinners claim "Best recipe on Pinterest". But this one lived up to the hype. We added this to our Mexican night rotation. Ole!
White Chicken Enchiladas
I had a cold when we tried this one, but Parker, Macy, and Tony gave this one two thumbs up. It took a lot of bowls, but it was relatively easy to assemble.
Stuffed Shells
Another slow cooker bust! Very dry hashbrowns and ham...Definitely a miss!
We had this when my family was in town, and all 9 people gave this peach version of dump cake rave reviews. Don't skimp on the calories and skip the ice cream. Vanilla ice cream is a must.
Peach Crunch Cake
My virtual BFF, Ree Drummond, scored another hit with this one. Tony especially liked that it makes a huge 9x13 so there was plenty of leftovers.
Chicken Spaghetti
Put Buffalo Chicken in the title and we are all over it! Even the kids love the Buffalo kick. This recipe would be perfect for a crisp fall night or a blustery, cold winter night. You will warm right up!
Loaded Buffalo Chicken Casserole
This recipe was a big disappointment. First, the description on Pinterest didn't match the link. It was so gross that we pitched the whole thing...
Cheesy Chicken Lasagna
A third crock pot bust! The alfredo sauce was green and I couldn't get past it. The kids thought it was OK, but I don't think they will be requesting it any time soon.
Chicken Broccoli Alfredo
Happy Menu Planning!
Sunday, September 16, 2012
Honestly Speaking
I love listening to people's stories and I am constantly asking questions about how these stories came to be. Sometimes these stories are happy tales of love and devotion and sometimes these stories are full of heartache and shame. Lately, the stories have had a common theme - honesty or lack there of.
I know that all of us - me included - want to present the very best picture of ourselves to the world. Good hair days, matching accessories, and if we're really lucky, wearing our skinny jeans. We want to be viewed as having it all together. This is the picture that we rush to publish on Facebook.
For all of us, the truth is not that pretty. The truth is husbands cheat. The truth is other wives question if that can happen to my good friend who is beautiful, kind, and caring, can that happen to me?
The truth is we can't handle telling the truth. We'll talk to our girlfriends before we'll talk to our husbands. We'll talk about our girlfriends to other girlfriends before we ever speak the truth to our girlfriends. Ironically, speaking and hearing the truth hurts.
But we have to speak it. Otherwise, our stories will be full of betrayal. If you can speak it to your girlfriend, then speak it to your husband. Husbands, speak the truth. We're big girls. It may hurt to hear it but we can take it. I used to believe that the blame for marriages falling apart could always be spread around. Not anymore. The blame lies with the one who quits speaking the truth.
So say what you have to say. Stand behind it. Own it. Should you choose to remain silent, then that burden belongs to you and only you.
I know that all of us - me included - want to present the very best picture of ourselves to the world. Good hair days, matching accessories, and if we're really lucky, wearing our skinny jeans. We want to be viewed as having it all together. This is the picture that we rush to publish on Facebook.
For all of us, the truth is not that pretty. The truth is husbands cheat. The truth is other wives question if that can happen to my good friend who is beautiful, kind, and caring, can that happen to me?
The truth is we can't handle telling the truth. We'll talk to our girlfriends before we'll talk to our husbands. We'll talk about our girlfriends to other girlfriends before we ever speak the truth to our girlfriends. Ironically, speaking and hearing the truth hurts.
But we have to speak it. Otherwise, our stories will be full of betrayal. If you can speak it to your girlfriend, then speak it to your husband. Husbands, speak the truth. We're big girls. It may hurt to hear it but we can take it. I used to believe that the blame for marriages falling apart could always be spread around. Not anymore. The blame lies with the one who quits speaking the truth.
So say what you have to say. Stand behind it. Own it. Should you choose to remain silent, then that burden belongs to you and only you.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Wrong turns
Two Saturdays ago, Tony got a phone call from one of his best buddies. He had 2 tickets to the Rams-Chiefs preseason game and wondered if Tony could go. I mentioned needing a babysitter and all of a sudden Parker is going and I am staying home. Despite the hit my ego took, the expression on Parker's face was priceless. Needless to say, I had two very excited boys hurriedly making plans.
The game was in a few hours so of course the thought went to changing clothes. Chiefs attire all the way! The boys plans quickly hit a snag when we all realized Parker's Chiefs shirts were for winter and probably too small. We immediately started brainstorming of where in St. Louis could we find Chiefs gear. We called Old Navy - they were sold out. I checked online and Dick's Sporting Goods showed quite a few. We headed over there to discover they only carry local teams in the store. A few weeks ago, my mom and I had been shopping at TJ Maxx and Marshalls and I remembered seeing Chiefs shirts there. We hopped back in the car and tried Marshalls. No luck. Tony was driving and since he usually avoids, I mean misses out on those stores, he took a wrong turn out of the parking lot. Not to worry, we knew we could get back on the highway with a little zig-zagging. Driving through an industrial park, I see a woman in a winter coat with 2 pieces of luggage. Since Tony was on a mission, he was driving fairly fast. I thought it might be the lady my mom and I had given a ride to a couple of months ago. I told Tony that I thought it was her and she probably needed a ride to the hotel. She was between Marshalls and standing in an empty lot. I stated the time and asked could we still get done what we needed to get done and help her. Without waiting for an answer, I said Parker has a red shirt he can always wear instead. Tony turned around and drove back to the lady. I hopped out of the car realizing up close that it was the same lady for sure.
The next morning at church, I am constantly checking my phone for Ms. P to call and asking "Lord, what will we do then?" I'm fearful because I don't know what we can do to help her. I know the saying give a man a fish...I know she needs a long-term solution. Then I look around at my church family and I know if I ask for help, it will be given. We're not alone in wanting to help Ms. P. Parker worries too and offers his plan. We can clean out the basement and make her a room to live with us. I am grateful for his tender heart and think why not? Children can break down a problem and simplify the solution. Adults are the ones who make it complicated. I don't know what my answer will be when she calls. I'm just praying that God will answer for me and put the words in my mouth. That's the best I can hope for.
All day long I kept thinking about how if Tony hadn't made that wrong turn, we would have never seen her. I couldn't help but wonder how many wrong turns Ms. P may have made in her life. Is she like the prodigal son? Too ashamed to call home? Has she made choices that her family felt forced to confront and say don't call us anymore?
Then I looked back at our married life and all the turns it has taken. Turns we made with the best of intentions that turned out to be wrong ones. And I'm thankful. I'm thankful that we have a God who does love us and can take all of our wrong turns and make them right ones.
The game was in a few hours so of course the thought went to changing clothes. Chiefs attire all the way! The boys plans quickly hit a snag when we all realized Parker's Chiefs shirts were for winter and probably too small. We immediately started brainstorming of where in St. Louis could we find Chiefs gear. We called Old Navy - they were sold out. I checked online and Dick's Sporting Goods showed quite a few. We headed over there to discover they only carry local teams in the store. A few weeks ago, my mom and I had been shopping at TJ Maxx and Marshalls and I remembered seeing Chiefs shirts there. We hopped back in the car and tried Marshalls. No luck. Tony was driving and since he usually avoids, I mean misses out on those stores, he took a wrong turn out of the parking lot. Not to worry, we knew we could get back on the highway with a little zig-zagging. Driving through an industrial park, I see a woman in a winter coat with 2 pieces of luggage. Since Tony was on a mission, he was driving fairly fast. I thought it might be the lady my mom and I had given a ride to a couple of months ago. I told Tony that I thought it was her and she probably needed a ride to the hotel. She was between Marshalls and standing in an empty lot. I stated the time and asked could we still get done what we needed to get done and help her. Without waiting for an answer, I said Parker has a red shirt he can always wear instead. Tony turned around and drove back to the lady. I hopped out of the car realizing up close that it was the same lady for sure.
"Can we give you a ride?"
"I don't have anywhere to go."
"Aren't you the lady who lives in the hotel down the road?"
"I don't have any money."
I fell back in the seat to repeat what she said. Tony asks me what I want to do. I reply that we can't just leave her there. We'll just have to pay for her hotel. Even if it means we eat ramen noodles all week is what I was really thinking. I get back out and tell her that we'll pay for her hotel. I crowd into the back when it hits me in the face that Parker and Macy have been watching all this unfold. She gets in and apologizes for sweating so badly. She tells Tony that she has 9 layers of clothes on. Then she turns to me and asks if I want to call the hotel first to find out how much the room will cost. No, I tell her. We'll take care of it. I can tell she doesn't remember me. Then she asks us if we would drive her through Burger King and she shows us $10 in multiple layers of ziploc bags. Tony answers "Of course. But we're buying your dinner." "Can I have breakfast too?" "Sure!" Listening to her order brings tears to Parker's eyes. Even he can see how hungry she is. We then drive back to the hotel and Parker jumps out of the car to help Tony with her bags. Macy is still there so I stay outside with her. Parker runs back out to let me know that Daddy has her checked in. Without really weighing the consequences, I write down our names and our cell numbers telling Parker to run this into Daddy and he'll know what to do with it. Tony give it to Ms. P and tells her to call us if she needs us. "Are you sure?" she asks him. Tony replies, "Yes, because God loves you." Back in the car, Parker has a million questions about how she doesn't have a home or where is her family. Questions we didn't have the answers for. The next morning at church, I am constantly checking my phone for Ms. P to call and asking "Lord, what will we do then?" I'm fearful because I don't know what we can do to help her. I know the saying give a man a fish...I know she needs a long-term solution. Then I look around at my church family and I know if I ask for help, it will be given. We're not alone in wanting to help Ms. P. Parker worries too and offers his plan. We can clean out the basement and make her a room to live with us. I am grateful for his tender heart and think why not? Children can break down a problem and simplify the solution. Adults are the ones who make it complicated. I don't know what my answer will be when she calls. I'm just praying that God will answer for me and put the words in my mouth. That's the best I can hope for.
All day long I kept thinking about how if Tony hadn't made that wrong turn, we would have never seen her. I couldn't help but wonder how many wrong turns Ms. P may have made in her life. Is she like the prodigal son? Too ashamed to call home? Has she made choices that her family felt forced to confront and say don't call us anymore?
Then I looked back at our married life and all the turns it has taken. Turns we made with the best of intentions that turned out to be wrong ones. And I'm thankful. I'm thankful that we have a God who does love us and can take all of our wrong turns and make them right ones.
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Consumption
I'm officially a working mom again. Today is my second contracted day. I woke up this morning at 1:45, and my first thought was my school to do list. It rumbled through my mind like a never-ending freight train. By 3:00, I gave in and got up and got busy. I went back to bed at 4:45. Now drinking my coffee at 6:30, I am marveling at how quickly my job consumes me. I hate to say it's a job when it means so much more to me than that. Nevertheless, it is still a job.
And I had to stop and ask myself, will Parker and Macy know that being their mother consumed me? Will Tony know being his wife consumed me? Will my parents know being their daughter consumed me? Will the dear ones in my life know being their friend consumed me? Will people know that my faith consumed me? I can be so focused on my work that I miss out on my life. On this work day, I am reminding myself to put just as much effort into my life as I do my career. Easier written the done, but I am going to try.
And I had to stop and ask myself, will Parker and Macy know that being their mother consumed me? Will Tony know being his wife consumed me? Will my parents know being their daughter consumed me? Will the dear ones in my life know being their friend consumed me? Will people know that my faith consumed me? I can be so focused on my work that I miss out on my life. On this work day, I am reminding myself to put just as much effort into my life as I do my career. Easier written the done, but I am going to try.
Monday, August 6, 2012
Doors
My classroom keys jangled as I balanced Target and Dollar Tree bags down the hallway to Room 30. I stood outside my locked classroom door and peered in. Do I really want to go in?, I thought. Opening that door meant that I was no longer a stay at home mom, but a working mom. Guilt is on the other side of that door. Guilt for devoting time to my students instead of my own children. Guilt for organizing my classroom instead of doing laundry. Fear was there too. What if this year brings a child I cannot reach? How many parents will I manage to irritate? Part of me wanted to drop my bags and run the other way. Another part of me knows that despite the guilt, my job blesses my family and in many ways, it blesses me.
As I walked through the door, I am reminded that we all walk through doors totally unaware of what lies ahead. We walk through doors where we have to grasp whatever courage we can find and say a prayer to be able to walk out whole and healthy. The hospital's door. The counselor's door. The unemployment office's door. Yet, we do not walk through doors alone. The One who knows what lies on the other side walks beside us. In front of us. Behind us. This week, I am trying to "Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the LORD, your God goes with you, he will never leave or forsake you." Dueteronomy 31:6 Whatever doors you are walking through this week, I hope and pray you are able to do the same.
Friday, August 3, 2012
July's Hits and Misses
July was unusual for us in that we only had one recipe that wasn't a keeper!
Two Timin' Pasta Bake claimed to be a ringer for the Four Cheese Bake Ziti at Olive Garden. The claims were correct! Even better though was the recipe called for jars of spaghetti sauce. It doesn't get any easier. This will definitely be filed under the category of fast weeknight meals.
Our family loves breakfast for dinner because our normal breakfasts require no prep. :) We tried Make Your Own Mini Frittatas. The kids loved these and again, my favorite kind of recipe - easy!
I try to plan one meat free meal a week. Needless to say, not the kids or Tony's favorite night but they humor me. To disguise all the beans in the wrap, we substituted refried beans for the pinto beans for these Spicy Bean and Rice Burritos. Even Parker who doesn't like beans declared these keepers!
Now for the miss...Cheeseburger Pasta was like a made from scratch Hamburger Helper. I don't mean to be a food snob, but I've only had it once in college when my roommate couldn't believe I had gone through my whole life without having Hamburger Helper. Once was enough for me.
This new recipe brought me the most joy! If you love appetizers, especially dips, then don't wait another minute! Make Loaded Baked Potato Dip. Now. It takes a lot less time than baking a potato.
Thursday, July 26, 2012
Chicken sandwich? Latte? Anyone? I'm having both.
It's all over FB. Countless articles in newspapers and online editorials over Chick-Fil-A. I've read some really good ones and some disturbing ones - in my opinion. And that is all it really is...An opinion. Our country has lost the art of practicing polite disagreement. We'll say anything with an expletive added to it for emphasis as if it makes our point more valid. We'll call names rather than exchange ideas. We judge one another and declare the other a hater if they think differently than we do. Free speech only applies if you agree with me.
In my opinion, Chick-Fil-A should be welcomed in Boston just as much as Starbucks is. If you don't like how their owners legally spend their profit, then show your disagreement as a consumer. Using the government or legislation as retaliation for a citizen legally supporting his beliefs doesn't make us the land of the free. It makes us the Semi-United Censure of America. We, the people, can do better than that. In my opinion.
In my opinion, Chick-Fil-A should be welcomed in Boston just as much as Starbucks is. If you don't like how their owners legally spend their profit, then show your disagreement as a consumer. Using the government or legislation as retaliation for a citizen legally supporting his beliefs doesn't make us the land of the free. It makes us the Semi-United Censure of America. We, the people, can do better than that. In my opinion.
Monday, July 23, 2012
Motivational Mondays: Plans?
"Why must you find something in every situation to worry about?" said Tony. If only if he had taken a picture! Words cannot begin to describe the look of shock on my face. Never having a snappy comeback when I really need one, a few minutes later, I told him that he was confusing worry with planning.
I love to plan as many of you know. But I often have a Plan A, Plan B, and Plan C. Despite the fact that I know life does not go according to plan - no matter how many I make. Looking back on all the situations in our married life that did not go according to plan, I am grateful that God's plan always have trumped mine. Even when times were painful or bitter or desperate, the ending has always been a blessing.
Yet, I still plan. All the variations of my plans and lists are a security blanket for the unknown - my emergency preparations kit. I'm trying to practice Tony's philosophy. Embrace the joy and trust that everything will work out. Even as I'm writing I feel the "but" wanting to come out. "Everything will work out" But only because I have a plan for that. Truly, only one plan is needed...
"For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11
I love to plan as many of you know. But I often have a Plan A, Plan B, and Plan C. Despite the fact that I know life does not go according to plan - no matter how many I make. Looking back on all the situations in our married life that did not go according to plan, I am grateful that God's plan always have trumped mine. Even when times were painful or bitter or desperate, the ending has always been a blessing.
Yet, I still plan. All the variations of my plans and lists are a security blanket for the unknown - my emergency preparations kit. I'm trying to practice Tony's philosophy. Embrace the joy and trust that everything will work out. Even as I'm writing I feel the "but" wanting to come out. "Everything will work out" But only because I have a plan for that. Truly, only one plan is needed...
"For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11
Monday, July 16, 2012
Motivational Monday: Mental Reminders
After spending time on our family vacation and hearing a great sermon yesterday, I am reminded once again of how important it is to nurture our families. With the return to school quickly approaching, I am giving myself mental reminders...Don't lose sight of this....This is what matters...Remember to listen...Of course, all this is easier said then done.
Our church has been using this scripture as a focus these last few weeks: "Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. These commandments that I give you today are to be upon your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Write them on the door frames of your houses and on your gates." Dueteronomy 6:5-9 My Jewish friends know this scripture well since they recite this scripture every morning and evening. I think I may have to start too because it is way too easy to let my conversations be about homework, books, or math facts.
When my overflowing school bag condemns me, when the laundry won't clean itself, and the living room floor looks like a land mine, help me to focus on those things eternal.
Our church has been using this scripture as a focus these last few weeks: "Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. These commandments that I give you today are to be upon your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Write them on the door frames of your houses and on your gates." Dueteronomy 6:5-9 My Jewish friends know this scripture well since they recite this scripture every morning and evening. I think I may have to start too because it is way too easy to let my conversations be about homework, books, or math facts.
When my overflowing school bag condemns me, when the laundry won't clean itself, and the living room floor looks like a land mine, help me to focus on those things eternal.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)