Teacher Appreciation

(This was written years ago as the only way I knew to thank my children's teachers for Teacher Appreciation Week. It is still as true today as it was then, though our move has kept me from knowing my children's teachers as well as I have in the past. They still mold, shape, and encourage, and I am still forever grateful for all that they do.)

This month includes teacher appreciation week. Every year I promise myself that starting in April I will get all of my ducks in a row and do something excessively wonderful for all of my children's teachers. And every April looks just like the last where I finish out the month with disheveled hair and wild eyes screaming, "What was THAT??"

I rarely do anything excessively wonderful for my children's teachers but I do appreciate them.

I always tell people that my philosophy on choosing how to educate your children (public, private, or home) is to do it prayerfully and carefully, and be willing to admit at any moment that it is no longer working for your family and change gears.

Thus far, we have been in public schools. Thus far, I still cannot believe how blessed my children have been with teachers and administrators. I do not request or choose teachers for my children, I pray and let the One who knit them and knew them before I did choose my children's teachers for them. He has never failed.

Yes, my children are my responsibility. Beyond my responsibility, they are little pieces of my heart out walking around on this planet. But research tells us that the more adults my children have that take an interest in their lives and have a relationship with my children, the more successful they will be in all areas of life. My children's teachers have not disappointed.

To you, precious people, words are not enough. How do you say 'thank you for being a brush stroke and background lighting for this masterpiece of a human'? How can I tell each of you that your delight in my child's successes fanned into flame a passion that will carry them into adulthood? You have pointed out strengths and pushed them along and kept them from doing 'just enough'.

None of you have let my children blend into the background. You have encouraged and cheered, praised and prodded, expected the best and never accepted the worst.

I have done your job. That is why I am now not doing your job. It is NOT for the faint of heart (or weary of foot). It is for people with tender hearts, thick skin, and a million hugging arms. It is for people with cast iron stomachs, bladders of elastic, and Solomon's wisdom.

I know that by this time of year you don't want to be appreciated by any way other than a day away from these people and you wonder if you would actually come back. But for some crazy reason, back you come. Sometimes you wonder if it's just your car coming out of habit.

Even at middle school level, you wouldn't believe how much I hear about you and how you touch my child's life and shape their values by what you find funny, the way you treat other students, and even the music played in your class; how your sad days will make my tender-hearted child's heart ache until you are smiling again.

You live in my neighborhood, worship at our church, exercise at my gym, shop at my grocery store. We see you and feel like a part of your life. You are a beloved part of my family, but not the crazy faction that we try to abstain from visiting. And I am part of yours -- if for no other reason than the fact that you have given your all to my children and there is little of you left by the end of the day. Thank you, and thank your family for us, too.

I can't say thank you enough or adequately. But I do thank you, and pray frequently for you. This time of year, my prayer is "strength for the journey". May you truly have strength for your journey, and countless blessings in your life for the blessing you are in mine.

I thank my God every time I remember you. Philippians 1:3

Celebrating Christmas, Poppa Max Style

published in today's Abilene Families

As I consider the upcoming holidays, I would love to write an article about slowing down, enjoying this time of year, and remembering the reason for the season. The reality is that by the time this article is published I will be eating Tums as a regular meal, darting from one activity to another as a crazed woman with her hair aflame, and I will probably be on my way to a party that I resent needing to attend and coughing up money for a gift I didn’t exactly agree to give but am expected to contribute to. The rut is too deep, the habits too engrained, and I know myself too well. This will be a season of running and rushing and spending. So, instead of trying to take some things OUT of the season, I have decided to add TO the season.

As my family gathers this year for Christmas, one person will be noticeably absent. My grandfather, who we referred to as Poppa Max, finished his 90 years on this earth this year and is celebrating around the throne of Him whose birth we celebrate. My grandfather was a big man, in stature as well as personality. His absence this season will be tangible. So, to honor his memory, I have decided to add some things into my holiday season to make it Christmas, Poppa Max style:

Poppa Max meeting my Riley for the first time.

1. I will take an active part in spreading some of the magic of the holidays. Not only was my grandfather a physically large man, he had an enormous bass voice. As our family gathered on Christmas Eve, he would make phone calls to some of our pre-school aged friends as Santa Claus. Many were left in speechless wonder. Maybe I will jingle some of Santa’s bells outside a doubting child’s bedroom window; maybe I will give some of my younger friends reindeer food for them to sprinkle on their lawn on Christmas Eve; maybe I will help Santa respond to some of his mail. I will do something to spread the magic of this season this year.

2. I will remember Christmas for “the least of these”. Under my grandparent’s tree, there was always a gift for a Down’s Syndrome gentleman that is my parents’ age that attends the same church. Sometimes a record, sometimes a new coloring book, it was always a very tiny something to let Mitchell know there was a family that loved him. I will look around and see folks that others may not notice and just let them know that there is someone that loves them.

Poppa Max with my Ashley.

3. I will give and give some more. Giving was not a holiday exercise for my grandfather, it was his attitude and way of life. I will give in secret throughout the year – just a little secret between my Poppa Max and me.

4. I will laugh and laugh loudly. With his enormous voice, Poppa Max also had a grand laugh that filled the room. During the holiday season, it came quite easily, so tickled was he to be surrounded by family. I will put aside spending concerns and scheduling conundrums at least once a day to laugh with my family. I will let them know that my joy in their presence cannot be contained and I must laugh.

I think we all look back at folks who have made Christmas magical and special for us in the past and are no longer with us to celebrate. May you find something in those memories to share with others, spreading the magic and laughing all the way.

My sweet Poppa Max and me, at his 90th birthday party, months before he died.

(I originally wrote this in 2007, the first year we celebrated Christmas without Poppa Max. I still miss him terribly, and know that his laughter fills the birthday party for Jesus. It will be wonderful to see him again when it's my turn. Some other memories of my Poppa Max.)

Lessons Learned From a Dinging Car

originally in Word for Today

My family is gloriously accustomed to not having a car payment, and are willing to put up with some interesting quirks of the vehicles to maintain that status. The one where my car will start and then die is less amusing than some, but so far it's been fairly harmless.

Years ago I had a vehicle with a particularly amusing quirk. Some sort of sensor had been thrown and after you started the car and all of the other dinging, beeping, buzzing, and bells and whistles shut off the car would start dinging. Loudly. Five sets of five dings, with about 15 seconds between sets. It originally didn't bother me too much, but started the day before we took a short trip.

On this trip we learned that sometimes after an hour or so the car would burst forth with another 25 dings, grieving that it was running so long without dinging. Neither my husband nor I really enjoy repetitive loud noises, but my husband really did not enjoy the new feature of the car. So I decided that it's all in your attitude about the dings. The dings are simply our car reminding us, "I have served you well for many years. Do NOT take me for granted. Just a reminder..."

Troy didn't really appreciate my over-the-top rosy outlook, either. I decided that the dings could be my reminder to think of 5 things I'm thankful for. I shared this new philosophy and insight on the way to church one Sunday morning, shouting my idea to the kids over the dinging and Troy's yelling at the dinging. I proceeded to list things I was thankful for as the car dinged away.

I continued to be thankful as my car dinged away. On my errand day I had opportunity to be ultra-thankful when I started and stopped the car at least 5 times, giving me no fewer than 25 opportunities to be thankful (and 125 dings in my ear, if you're doing the math). That particular day not much went right, though.

Later in the evening, quite unhappy about getting back out of the house on a rainy cold night, the kids and I piled into the car. As the car began dinging, Riley asked, "Mom, what are you thankful for?" I HAD come up with 25 things earlier in the day -- but I was completely out. I wanted to shout, "NOTHING!!! I am not thankful for one darn thing in this day!!!!" Realizing that wouldn't be a very good example, I simply said, "Riley, I've got nothing."

He began, "I'm thankful for a warm car!!" Bless his sweet little heart. Next ding was Ashley's turn, "I'm thankful I have Expedition 56 (new group at church for 5th and 6th graders)." And away we went, thankful for our wonderful, blessed lives, in our blessing of a quirky vehicle reminding us to be thankful.

The dinging car is long gone now. The kids are older now and likely wouldn’t play along with their crazy mother on such a silly task to simply distract ourselves from the fact that our car was falling slap apart. But I’m thankful for the Lord’s provision of a vehicle that worked, and even of a noisy reminder that it didn’t have to work. Sometimes it would be good for alarms to go off periodically to remind me to be grateful for all the things in my life.

“give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus.” 1 Thessalonians 5:18

The Land of The Living

This whole blog-a-day-in-September had to take a brief hiatus yesterday (I just now posted yesterday's blog) as I lay in bed with a migraine all day. That was sad, considering it was evidently the nicest weather day we have had since I've lived here.

My regular blog-readers are all-too-aware of my migraines, which have been somewhat well behaved lately. But we traveled to a wedding this weekend. I didn't drink as much water as I should have, being on the road and all, then the weather change knocked me flat on my back. Literally.

At one point I couldn't keep anything down -- no water, no food, and worst of all, no pills. So I could lay with an ice pack on my head, in too much pain to sleep. It's really no way to spend a Labor Day, I tell you.

I totally need one of these things! Found it while  looking for pics of ice packs.

However, it gives me opportunity to practice "give thanks in all circumstances" (1 Thess. 5:18). Too often the first thing to come out of my mouth is a complaint, an "if-only", a "why isn't it that way...?", so laying perfectly still in pain gives me time to practice being grateful. And I realized that I am.

No, I was not grateful to be inside a dark room flat on my back, unable to be medicated on a gorgeous day. Here are things I was grateful for:
*This is not my usual life.
*My family was so amazing and sweet and took good care of me.
*The ice pack.

And on it went. Above all, I went back to being grateful for being generally healthy, so that days like this are rare.

And this morning, when I could keep down half a banana, then a whole pill, it was an amazing day for rejoicing indeed. Look at me! Back in the land of the living. Now if I could figure out how to get one of those ice helmet things...

Teacher Appreciation

This month includes teacher appreciation week. Every year I promise myself that starting in April I will get all of my ducks in a row and do something excessively wonderful for all of my children's teachers. And every April looks just like the last where I finish out the month with disheveled hair and wild eyes screaming, "What was THAT??"

I rarely do anything excessively wonderful for my children's teachers but I do appreciate them.

I always tell people that my philosophy on choosing how to educate your children (public, private, or home) is to do it prayerfully and carefully, and be willing to admit at any moment that it is no longer working for your family and change gears.

Thus far, we have been in public schools. Thus far, I still cannot believe how blessed my children have been with teachers and administrators. I do not request or choose teachers for my children, I pray and let the One who knit them and knew them before I did choose my children's teachers for them. He has never failed.

Yes, my children are my responsibility. Beyond my responsibility, they are little pieces of my heart out walking around on this planet. But research tells us that the more adults my children have that take an interest in their lives and have a relationship with my children, the more successful they will be in all areas of life. My children's teachers have not disappointed.

To you, precious people, words are not enough. How do you say 'thank you for being a brush stroke and background lighting for this masterpiece of a human'? How can I tell each of you that your delight in my child's successes fanned into flame a passion that will carry them into adulthood? You have pointed out strengths and pushed them along and kept them from doing 'just enough'.

None of you have let my children blend into the background. You have encouraged and cheered, praised and prodded, expected the best and never accepted the worst.

I have done your job. That is why I am now not doing your job. It is NOT for the faint of heart (or weary of foot). It is for people with tender hearts, thick skin, and a million hugging arms. It is for people with cast iron stomachs, bladders of elastic, and Solomon's wisdom.

I know that by this time of year you don't want to be appreciated by any way other than a day away from these people and you wonder if you would actually come back. But for some crazy reason, back you come. Sometimes you wonder if it's just your car coming out of habit.

Even at middle school level, you wouldn't believe how much I hear about you and how you touch my child's life and shape their values by what you find funny, the way you treat other students, and even the music played in your class; how your sad days will make my tender-hearted child's heart ache until you are smiling again.

You live in my neighborhood, worship at our church, exercise at my gym, shop at my grocery store. We see you and feel like a part of your life. You are a beloved part of my family, but not the crazy faction that we try to abstain from visiting. And I am part of yours -- if for no other reason than the fact that you have given your all to my children and there is little of you left by the end of the day. Thank you, and thank your family for us, too.

I can't say thank you enough or adequately. But I do thank you, and pray frequently for you. This time of year, my prayer is "strength for the journey". May you truly have strength for your journey, and countless blessings in your life for the blessing you are in mine.

I thank my God every time I remember you. Philippians 1:3

Gratitude

Hey, check me out! Two blog posts in two days! What will happen next? Not much... Don't get used to it...

So this morning, if dawn had a furry little hiney crack that resembled a nasty plumber's crack you never wanna see -- yeah, that is when I got up to go do my half-marathon. (REMINDER: I HAD NO INTENTION OF RUNNING THE WHOLE THING) No, it wasn't even the hairy hiney crack of dawn, it truly was just the slap middle of the night.

Because of the nature of our half-marathon, (I hesitate to use the phrase "rag-tag" because we are a serious group of men and women training just as hard as the next group -- but our start time was voted on by our training group, so it wasn't your typical half- marathon) we started SUPER early. No one wants to start a half-marathon at sun-up in July in West Texas.

HOWEVER, the Lord was gracious to us and gave us amazingly cool temperatures for the weekend, and we even were dry for most of the race (I started at 4:30 a.m. wearing a sun visor to keep the mist out of my eyes).

About a mile and a half in, I think I pulled a muscle or something in my calf. I couldn't tell what was going on with it, so I tried to stretch it out, walk it out, stretch some more, etc. Whatever, I was in pain. Thought about quitting. Thought about crying. Did. Kept walking. Stretched again. Did something that resembled running inside my head, maybe shuffling if you were to drive by. Kept walking. Lots of walking. A little shuffling.

So I got to 13.1 miles in such a fashion. It was NOT pretty.

So... where does gratitude come in? I'll be honest... not there. Not for me. Yeah, yeah, I should be grateful I could do it. I should be grateful for all the training I have completed, and I should be grateful for all -- and there are SCADS -- the people who have encouraged me, either by their words, or by their actions of their workouts, etc. But I was annoyed. Today did not go how I wanted and I still hurt.

Gratitude came in the form of my scheduled massage. I'm sure that's a no-brainer, but go with me. First she worked on my calf and that made me want to cry more. But then she worked on my feet. Knowing that I had done the half-marathon, she spent a LOT of time on my feet -- time on each little individual toe. And with each little individual toe, I was more grateful for the healthy body that I do have. With each toe that she rubbed -- oh, yes, ma'am, she got to each little tiny toe, the bones underneath and all the pads, I'm tellin' ya..-- I thought of how many different parts of my body had to work right for me to ever train for this, much less take it on.

Earlier this week my back tightened up on me and I thought I would miss it -- you can't walk 13 miles if you can't walk across the room upright. I stretched and hot tubbed and stretched some more until my back was ready to go. (We shan't discuss right now whether or not I SHOULD have missed it... Oye...)

So, I am still hurting, yet grateful for the opportunity to hurt. Grateful the Lord gave me this healthy body. Grateful that God allows me to plan and scheme different ways to not listen to it. Grateful that He even has a plan for it to heal when I don't listen to it.

And, I continue to be grateful for the community of people that helped train and encourage and cheer and prod. That is truly how it all started and, more importantly, how it all got done.

Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it. 1 Corinthians 12:27

Thank You For Asking!

Needing to get out of town for Brian's funeral, but the kids wanting to stay here for church activities, I started calling around getting my kids squared away with church folks who are neighbors and have kids our kids' ages.

Thankfully, I didn't have to make too many calls -- people were very willing to help. But the second call I made totally blew me away. I told her what I needed: my child to spend the night at her house on a school night, some transportation for both of my children the night before, and some transportation for one of my children on a school morning. A Monday morning, at that.

This precious saint, like the other, said, "Oh, absolutely, I would be happy to help you out." But what she said after that really blew me away. "I'm honored that you would ask me. Thank you so much for asking me."

Um, seriously? Well, you are so welcome to be asked to be inconvenienced.

But on a small scale I know what she means. I hate to hear sometimes that someone needed help and I wasn't aware of it to help. So, indeed, I'm thankful to know when people are willing to let me help -- but to go so far as thanking them for asking me? Well, why wouldn't I?

I will certainly do that from now on. Have YOU ever thanked someone for asking you for help?

I also need your help -- Good Things Out There for tomorrow. Lay it on me. What's the best of the internet this week? Preferably blogs, but any good writing, thinking, or inspiration you can find. What do you think?

Friday Reminders

Quick check-in.

Busy end of week. Yesterday I substituted in PE. I had a blast playing with kids, but was reminded why I quit teaching by stopping to talk to a first grade teacher. She was grieving over the loss of a student who had moved away. He had only been in her class for 6 days, had been a complete terror the entire time he had been there, but she grieved losing him. Why? Because mom isn't legally to have custody of him, and she fears for his future. She hates not knowing, she hates having to release it and worry about the other 20 kids in her class, equally needy. And she told me all of this with blue glitter stuck to her top lip. All reasons I am thankful I left teaching. I'm not emotionally equipped for it. Thank you, teachers, for continuing to soldier on, fighting for the kids whose parents won't.

Last night was the awards ceremony. Everyone at my house had an awful day on the way to it, yet we made it, looked great, and smiled all the same. By the time I tried to get everyone dressed and happy and sit through all of that, I came home with a migraine, but we are all still very proud, Ashley has now survived missing a sporting event and lived to tell about it, and the weekend is here. God bless us every one.

Today I am substituting in PE again. Precious little ones, stinky big ones all. And God sent me a reminder for my writing, as well. Just a sweet little note from someone I don't keep up with often to say: "Your writing is really making a difference in my life." I am blessed and my cup overflows. Honestly, I have been talking to God recently about just such an affirmation. Just a LITTLE something to let me know to keep going. Should I keep going or get a "real job"? Thank you, Lord, for perfect timing of precious souls.

There is deer hunting and truck hunting and birthday party-ing and Girls Conference-ing this weekend. I, personally, don't have a busy weekend planned, but everyone around me does! What about you? What's going on at your house?

A Grateful Heart is a Happy Heart

Anyone else see the irony in me STRESSING out over the cash hemorrhage (that started around Christmas) while I was leaving the grocery store -- and coming home and needing to spend 5 minutes rearranging stuff in my freezer so that I could shut the freezer door?

If I were God, I would thump a child as ungrateful as me.

From the fullness of his grace we have all received one blessing after another. John 1:16