I cannot remember a time when I did not believe in angels. My Sunday school teachers told wonderful stories about angels visiting humans -- I particularly loved the story of the angel choir announcing the birth of Jesus. I not only loved the story, but the fact we were studying that section of the Bible meant Christmas was not very far away!
There is a huge difference, though, in believing IN something and KNOWING it for a fact. I learned first-hand the power of angels when I was six. I had lost my hearing but didn't really know that. My hearing loss happened gradually, and even my parents didn't know--they just thought I wasn't paying attention or was using "selective hearing" when I claiimed not to have heard them.
I was in the first grade and rode the bus to and from school. Pam and David were still at home, so Mama walked across the yard to the railroad crossing with me every morning and met me there every afternoon. But one day she was running late -- I don't know why. I felt so grown up getting off the bus without Mama there. I started across the ditch, across the tracks, and then I saw Mama running across the yard waving her arms. Really, had she lost her mind? Didn't she know people might see her? When I felt the ground vibrating, I looked to my left -- and there was the train. There I stood, in the middle of the tracks, a train looming down on me -- I didn't know what to do. And in the blink of an eye, I was back off the tracks, the train zooming by and gradually slowing down. There was no bright light or heavenly sight -- I was just OFF the tracks. When the train finally stopped -- I couldn't imagine why--the conductor got on top of the train and ran towards the back. It wasn't until he saw me standing there that he went down on his knees and I saw him crying. It was a long time later that I realized he thought he had hit me. He got up and waved at Mama, who was, to my horror, lying on the ground trying to see under the train. I can't describe anything; I only know that a power greater than I moved me off the tracks.
Years and years later, Granny got sick. She finally agreed to move in with Mama and Daddy because she needed round-the-clock care and it was too much for Pigo. She was in great pain with pancreatic cancer and was sometimes unsure of the time -- of the day, the year, or her life. One morning Daddy called and said I might want to come. Granny had been up since 4:00 begging to go home. Making every effort to grant her wishes, Mama and her sisters had loaded her into the Tahoe and taken her to her house. But that's not what she wanted. We waited on her all day. Suddenly, she wanted to sit up. It took several of us to help her because she was so weak. She started smiling and clapping -- we didn't know what was going on. She kept saying, "He's coming, he's coming!" And then her face fell. And in a soft voice full of despair, she said, "He skipped me." I'll never forget how sad she was, and I'll always believe that her angels were taking care of her during that time.
A year and a half after Granny died, Pigo had a stroke. I'll always say he died of a broken heart -- he missed Granny so much! The morning of his stroke, I went to his house to check on him -- I had had a dream that wouldn't go away. I found him sleepy and not able to talk much and called family in to help. A few hours later, in his hospital room, he said what I believe were his last words: "I need some water" and "Don't worry--they're all around me." What else would he have been talking about? It had to be angels.
Recently, Vicki gave me the book Angel Song to read. It's written by Sheila Walsh and Kathryn Cushman -- Women of Faith speakers and authors. If you like to read, get it. If anyone you are close to has ever died, read it. To be honest, I couldn't read it at first. It involved a car wreck and someone dying, and Robert's death is still very fresh for me. But I kept going back to it, and when I could read it I got such comfort from that book. A thought that has not left me since Robert's accident is that he was all alone, but I should have known better. It took this book to remind me of that. He wasn't alone at all -- angels were singing all around him.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
What Do I Make? The Million Dollar Question
Some days I wonder why I teach---high school, gymnastics, Children's Church. But I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that teaching is what God has called me to do. I remember the sheer horror on Daddy's face when I told him I wanted to teach English -- he couldn't understand why anyone in the world would want to do that. He had always operated under the presumption that I would do something in the medical field. What he really had in mind was that I would be an anesthesiologist. No worries, Daddy -- I still put people to sleep!!
I knew I wanted to be a teacher in elementary school; my sixth grade teacher scared me to death, though, and almost ended my chances of being a teacher by ending my career as a student. When I finally got brave enough (six weeks later) to go back to school, I determined that I would be a teacher, a better one--one who didn't scare students or give a lot of busy work.
Then when I was a junior in high school circumstances evolved that made it necessary for me to change schools. Transferring schools in the middle of one's junior year is a feat that can make the heart grow weak, but I did it -- and I found my role model. My new English teacher was AHHHMAZING! I had never seen a teacher handle a classroom like she did. She was unusually short, but even the tallest and biggest of the football players would have stripped naked and spun around upside down on their pinky fingers if she had said to. Oh, how I wanted to be like her. So...I broke the news to Daddy. And that's all I'm saying about that.
As I told you in previous posts, school was an adventure -- babies coming all along, jobs lost, houses burned-- but finally I had my degree and began teaching. It took awhile, but I found my place in God's world at Crenshaw Christian Academy. I had been teaching at Sylvan Learning Center, but Lauren's heart problems required me to be closer to lessen the stress on her. Until then, I didn't know that English teachers went to work and planned to die at the same school. I applied EVERYWHERE!!! No one had a position. I was "welcome to send in a resume," but the outlook was not good.
And then one day, Robbie called from work and needed me to look up a number. When I flipped through the phone book, one number literally jumped from the page: Crenshaw Christian Academy. I had no idea there was such a place! And I was positive that they did not need an English teacher. But I could NOT get that number from my mind.
Finally, I threw my hands up. "All right, God! I'll call. But you KNOW they don't need an English teacher -- if they're even a REAL school!" I put conditions on the call, though. Call me Gideon, but I agreed to call as long as I could put my "fleece" out there. The answer to my call had to be absolute -- no questions.
So I dialed. And hung up. And dialed again. With heavy heart and very negative attitude, I told the secretary who I was and wondered if, by chance, CCA needed an English teacher. Here's the response: Oh my gosh! Don't hang up. I have to get Mrs. Johnson! Hold on, now. You're not going to hang up are you! I'll be right back!
As I held on, I thought, "Well, okay God. That was pretty clear. Good job." And so I began teaching at CCA almost twenty-one years ago. During those years, I have often been reminded that I could make more money somewhere else -- and that's right. And sometimes I get really aggravated at the students who don't seem to care -- the ones who don't appreciate the wonderful opportunity they've been given -- the ones who, despite my best efforts, seem to know absolutely nothing about anything I've done in class. And then a breakthrough comes and my spirit is renewed.
So, today, I'm reminded of a something I heard once. For anyone who wonders what I make, here goes:
I make characters and stories come alive. I make words make sense. I make children who thought they couldn't believe they can. I make a way for children to get to college. I make students think. I make big jobs seem "do-able." I make students be accountable. I make myself available to my students and their parents. I make my room a safe, warm, and inviting place. I make people like Huck Finn and Tom Walker seem real. I make unloved children feel loved. I make it okay to ask questions. I make doctors and lawyers and firemen and teachers and engineers and dentists and policemen.
What do I make? I make a difference.
For a long time I have known that my students would not really appreciate me during high school. In fact, they probably won't like me at all. But one day, probably in college, they will appreciate my efforts. And I can wait. A very hard-working but struggling student and his parents wrote a note and gave it to me the night he graduated. The line I will always remember is "We will love you far longer than you remember us." That's my goal -- to be the one "loved far longer." I make a difference, and that's much more important than the amount on my paycheck.
I knew I wanted to be a teacher in elementary school; my sixth grade teacher scared me to death, though, and almost ended my chances of being a teacher by ending my career as a student. When I finally got brave enough (six weeks later) to go back to school, I determined that I would be a teacher, a better one--one who didn't scare students or give a lot of busy work.
Then when I was a junior in high school circumstances evolved that made it necessary for me to change schools. Transferring schools in the middle of one's junior year is a feat that can make the heart grow weak, but I did it -- and I found my role model. My new English teacher was AHHHMAZING! I had never seen a teacher handle a classroom like she did. She was unusually short, but even the tallest and biggest of the football players would have stripped naked and spun around upside down on their pinky fingers if she had said to. Oh, how I wanted to be like her. So...I broke the news to Daddy. And that's all I'm saying about that.
As I told you in previous posts, school was an adventure -- babies coming all along, jobs lost, houses burned-- but finally I had my degree and began teaching. It took awhile, but I found my place in God's world at Crenshaw Christian Academy. I had been teaching at Sylvan Learning Center, but Lauren's heart problems required me to be closer to lessen the stress on her. Until then, I didn't know that English teachers went to work and planned to die at the same school. I applied EVERYWHERE!!! No one had a position. I was "welcome to send in a resume," but the outlook was not good.
And then one day, Robbie called from work and needed me to look up a number. When I flipped through the phone book, one number literally jumped from the page: Crenshaw Christian Academy. I had no idea there was such a place! And I was positive that they did not need an English teacher. But I could NOT get that number from my mind.
Finally, I threw my hands up. "All right, God! I'll call. But you KNOW they don't need an English teacher -- if they're even a REAL school!" I put conditions on the call, though. Call me Gideon, but I agreed to call as long as I could put my "fleece" out there. The answer to my call had to be absolute -- no questions.
So I dialed. And hung up. And dialed again. With heavy heart and very negative attitude, I told the secretary who I was and wondered if, by chance, CCA needed an English teacher. Here's the response: Oh my gosh! Don't hang up. I have to get Mrs. Johnson! Hold on, now. You're not going to hang up are you! I'll be right back!
As I held on, I thought, "Well, okay God. That was pretty clear. Good job." And so I began teaching at CCA almost twenty-one years ago. During those years, I have often been reminded that I could make more money somewhere else -- and that's right. And sometimes I get really aggravated at the students who don't seem to care -- the ones who don't appreciate the wonderful opportunity they've been given -- the ones who, despite my best efforts, seem to know absolutely nothing about anything I've done in class. And then a breakthrough comes and my spirit is renewed.
So, today, I'm reminded of a something I heard once. For anyone who wonders what I make, here goes:
I make characters and stories come alive. I make words make sense. I make children who thought they couldn't believe they can. I make a way for children to get to college. I make students think. I make big jobs seem "do-able." I make students be accountable. I make myself available to my students and their parents. I make my room a safe, warm, and inviting place. I make people like Huck Finn and Tom Walker seem real. I make unloved children feel loved. I make it okay to ask questions. I make doctors and lawyers and firemen and teachers and engineers and dentists and policemen.
What do I make? I make a difference.
For a long time I have known that my students would not really appreciate me during high school. In fact, they probably won't like me at all. But one day, probably in college, they will appreciate my efforts. And I can wait. A very hard-working but struggling student and his parents wrote a note and gave it to me the night he graduated. The line I will always remember is "We will love you far longer than you remember us." That's my goal -- to be the one "loved far longer." I make a difference, and that's much more important than the amount on my paycheck.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
20+ Years in Children's Church
Our church blessed Robbie and me with a sweet service this morning that honored the development of Children's Church. It's hard to believe that it's been over twenty years since I started teaching the children during worship service. The children have taught me as much as I ever taught them -- and in a much funnier manner! I just thought I would share some of the highlights over the years (in no particular order):
1. When I asked Zack and Jordan to explain why we should have Thanksgiving, they hurriedly put all their wordly and biblical fourth-grade knowledge together and said: Because the Pilgrims were hungry, and Squanto brought them two fish and five loaves of bread!
2. While reciting Psalm 23, Leigh got to the part "He restores my soul," but instead said, "He will steal my sword."
3. While we were acting out the story of Moses and the Red Sea, Zack was playing the part of Moses and Karissa was an Israelite woman. As Zack held his hand out over the blue "water," Karissa crossed the "sea" and then looked back. With horror on her face, she said, "Huwwy, Gack! The Gyptians are coming!" Zack: "Don't wowwy, Kwissa! I'm coming!"
4. When I asked Will what he had learned in school that week, he told me he now knew just what to do in case his house caught on fire. "All I have to do is just shake, rattle, and roll."
5. Julie always talked about wanting a brother or a sister. After the story of Samuel's mother praying without ceasing for a baby, Julie said, "Well, just call me Hannah."
6. After our dog had puppies, Robert couldn't stand the thought of leaving them at home while we went to church...so we took them (and their mom). Robert beamed as all his classmates watched the puppies, and with all the confidence in the world, said, "Don't pick them up yet. They're too little. They still have to eat from their mama's kidneys."
7. Karissa raised her hand in church one Sunday when we had gone out for the song service. When the preacher asked her what she wanted to pray for, she batted those long eyelashes, shook back her waist-length hair, and sweetly said, "Please pray for my mama that she will not be sooooo mean." Pam almost died!
8. Josh asked if Jesus lived on a farm, or how else would he know what all to put here for a farm?
9. Lauren asked if she could have chicken strips in heaven, because how else could she never be hungry again?
10. Gabby cried one Sunday when her daddy picked her up early to go to a family reunion. He decided to let her stay when she wailed, "You're taking me out, and we haven't even learned about God!!"
11. Once in the middle of snack (quite possibly the most important part of Children's Church), this conversation happened:
Bailey: Y'all, I've got to quit eating. I weigh thirty-seven!
Blake: Thirty-seven? That ain't nothing!
Morgan: Yeah, my mama weighs more than that.
Bailey: Well, my mama's older than your mama.
Morgan: Uh uh. My mama's the oldest of all.
Gabby: No, Morgan, my mama is older because she is your mama's sister and she's older.
Blake: Well, this is the truth: My daddy is the oldest and if you don't know it, look at his head. He has GRAY hair!
12. Over a couple of years, we had some Mexican children who were just learning to speak English. Robert was helping me one Sunday and Emir was learning our names. Every time, he got everyone right until he got to Robert -- Emir called him cinca. At first it was funny, but soon Robert couldn't figure out why Emir wouldn't say Robert but called him cinca instead. And then we found out. Emir stood up, poked Robert right on the chest -- where his jersey had a big number 5 on it -- and said in a way that meant business, "CINCA!!"
There are so many blessings I've gotten from Children's Church. I've had the special privilege of teaching all three of my children and all seven nieces and nephews, as well as numerous cousins and church family children. For years, I was known by all the children as Aunt Lisa. Now, it is not uncommon to hear the children call me ZiZi. Robbie has been such a huge influence once his work schedule all owed him to partner with me. He is PopPop to all the children.
As I told the church today, the Bible passage that is my guide for this ministry is in Acts chapter 8. It's the story of Phillip approaching the Ethiopian eunuch reading Isaiah. When Phillp asks if he understands, the Ethiopian replies, "How can I understand, unless I have someone to teach me?" That is my mission -- to help the children understand not only the stories of the Bible, but the plan of salvation as well. I look forward to many more blessings as I teach the second generation of Chilren's Church.
As the service closed today, Allen presented me with a framed document that we had given Bro. James Owens, the pastor under whom Children's Church was established. The event was his twentieth anniversary in the ministry. Bro. James (also known as Bull) had preached at homecoming and had brought it back saying that it seemed that he thought it belonged at Sweet Home. The document had been presented by Children's Church, and had been "signed" with the fingerprints of all our little ones. How sweet to see all their tiny fingerprints. How touching that Robert's was one of them. How kind of Bro. Bull to offer it to us. How thoughtful of our church to have this service today and present it to Robbie and me. How blessed we are to be a part of such a loving and warm church family. My cup runneth over. I hope my saucer can catch it all!
1. When I asked Zack and Jordan to explain why we should have Thanksgiving, they hurriedly put all their wordly and biblical fourth-grade knowledge together and said: Because the Pilgrims were hungry, and Squanto brought them two fish and five loaves of bread!
2. While reciting Psalm 23, Leigh got to the part "He restores my soul," but instead said, "He will steal my sword."
3. While we were acting out the story of Moses and the Red Sea, Zack was playing the part of Moses and Karissa was an Israelite woman. As Zack held his hand out over the blue "water," Karissa crossed the "sea" and then looked back. With horror on her face, she said, "Huwwy, Gack! The Gyptians are coming!" Zack: "Don't wowwy, Kwissa! I'm coming!"
4. When I asked Will what he had learned in school that week, he told me he now knew just what to do in case his house caught on fire. "All I have to do is just shake, rattle, and roll."
5. Julie always talked about wanting a brother or a sister. After the story of Samuel's mother praying without ceasing for a baby, Julie said, "Well, just call me Hannah."
6. After our dog had puppies, Robert couldn't stand the thought of leaving them at home while we went to church...so we took them (and their mom). Robert beamed as all his classmates watched the puppies, and with all the confidence in the world, said, "Don't pick them up yet. They're too little. They still have to eat from their mama's kidneys."
7. Karissa raised her hand in church one Sunday when we had gone out for the song service. When the preacher asked her what she wanted to pray for, she batted those long eyelashes, shook back her waist-length hair, and sweetly said, "Please pray for my mama that she will not be sooooo mean." Pam almost died!
8. Josh asked if Jesus lived on a farm, or how else would he know what all to put here for a farm?
9. Lauren asked if she could have chicken strips in heaven, because how else could she never be hungry again?
10. Gabby cried one Sunday when her daddy picked her up early to go to a family reunion. He decided to let her stay when she wailed, "You're taking me out, and we haven't even learned about God!!"
11. Once in the middle of snack (quite possibly the most important part of Children's Church), this conversation happened:
Bailey: Y'all, I've got to quit eating. I weigh thirty-seven!
Blake: Thirty-seven? That ain't nothing!
Morgan: Yeah, my mama weighs more than that.
Bailey: Well, my mama's older than your mama.
Morgan: Uh uh. My mama's the oldest of all.
Gabby: No, Morgan, my mama is older because she is your mama's sister and she's older.
Blake: Well, this is the truth: My daddy is the oldest and if you don't know it, look at his head. He has GRAY hair!
12. Over a couple of years, we had some Mexican children who were just learning to speak English. Robert was helping me one Sunday and Emir was learning our names. Every time, he got everyone right until he got to Robert -- Emir called him cinca. At first it was funny, but soon Robert couldn't figure out why Emir wouldn't say Robert but called him cinca instead. And then we found out. Emir stood up, poked Robert right on the chest -- where his jersey had a big number 5 on it -- and said in a way that meant business, "CINCA!!"
There are so many blessings I've gotten from Children's Church. I've had the special privilege of teaching all three of my children and all seven nieces and nephews, as well as numerous cousins and church family children. For years, I was known by all the children as Aunt Lisa. Now, it is not uncommon to hear the children call me ZiZi. Robbie has been such a huge influence once his work schedule all owed him to partner with me. He is PopPop to all the children.
As I told the church today, the Bible passage that is my guide for this ministry is in Acts chapter 8. It's the story of Phillip approaching the Ethiopian eunuch reading Isaiah. When Phillp asks if he understands, the Ethiopian replies, "How can I understand, unless I have someone to teach me?" That is my mission -- to help the children understand not only the stories of the Bible, but the plan of salvation as well. I look forward to many more blessings as I teach the second generation of Chilren's Church.
As the service closed today, Allen presented me with a framed document that we had given Bro. James Owens, the pastor under whom Children's Church was established. The event was his twentieth anniversary in the ministry. Bro. James (also known as Bull) had preached at homecoming and had brought it back saying that it seemed that he thought it belonged at Sweet Home. The document had been presented by Children's Church, and had been "signed" with the fingerprints of all our little ones. How sweet to see all their tiny fingerprints. How touching that Robert's was one of them. How kind of Bro. Bull to offer it to us. How thoughtful of our church to have this service today and present it to Robbie and me. How blessed we are to be a part of such a loving and warm church family. My cup runneth over. I hope my saucer can catch it all!
Friday, November 5, 2010
My Three Jobs...and Updates
It's an exciting day for three of my jobs: Crenshaw Christian Academy hosts the first round of regional playoff games tonight. My goodness, spirits are high today! You should see the students decked out in their camo (it's camo day) and their blue hair -- that is NOT a typo! I wish the team all the luck in the world tonight. You know it's easy to get nervous when the game is not a "normal" one. This team certainly deserves to go on, so I hope they play well.
And tomorrow is another big day -- Greenville Gymnastics will travel to Tuscaloosa to compete in the Bama Rama Meet. I'm praying each girl has an awesome meet. I hope Anna's foot doesn't bother her -- I still can't believe her horse stepped on it! What I really want is for each girl to remember all she has learned and focus. They are all so talented. And Lauren and I are super excited that we have all our girls there on ONE day! It'll be a long day, but we still have part of a weekend this way.
Most importantly, my firstborn had a birthday this week, and we will go to their house tonight and celebrate. I can hardly believe Josh is twenty-eight years old. It seems like only last week that the nurse brought him to me; a few days ago he was counting to 100 every time we got in the car to go to school; only yesterday he was graduating from high school. I am so blessed to have my children and family. What an awesome "job" it is to be a mama!
I'll try to post pictures after these events!
And tomorrow is another big day -- Greenville Gymnastics will travel to Tuscaloosa to compete in the Bama Rama Meet. I'm praying each girl has an awesome meet. I hope Anna's foot doesn't bother her -- I still can't believe her horse stepped on it! What I really want is for each girl to remember all she has learned and focus. They are all so talented. And Lauren and I are super excited that we have all our girls there on ONE day! It'll be a long day, but we still have part of a weekend this way.
Most importantly, my firstborn had a birthday this week, and we will go to their house tonight and celebrate. I can hardly believe Josh is twenty-eight years old. It seems like only last week that the nurse brought him to me; a few days ago he was counting to 100 every time we got in the car to go to school; only yesterday he was graduating from high school. I am so blessed to have my children and family. What an awesome "job" it is to be a mama!
I'll try to post pictures after these events!
**********
Ok, time for updates. To put it mildly, this weekend has felt like fruit basket turnover. Grace and I left school a few minutes early so that I could drop her off and pick up the doughnuts we had bought from Daniel for his fundraiser. Just as I was loading them up, Lauren called to tell me Vicki's daddy had been hurt at work and was being taken to UAB. For those who haven't put together how this could upset the fruit basket, Vicki is Josh's wife -- and the one planning Josh's birthday party. After it was decided that we would go ahead with it while Vicki went to the hospital, my plans changed a little. I came home, picked Robbie up, and went to Josh's to help with the setup.
That's when the apples really started to roll (I'm simply continuing with my fruit basket metaphor). Daddy called to see what time the party would start and said he would be on in a few minutes. I thought that a little odd, so I asked about Mama. That's when I found out that my sister-in-law Kathy, who I knewhad become ill Friday morning, had gotten sicker during the day, and had been transferred by ambulance to Mobile. Mama and Daddy happened to be at the hospital, and Mama had gone with David to Mobile.
Well, of course we were worried about Papa Greg (Vicki's daddy) and Kathy, but we had a wonderful time with Josh. He had grilled hamburgers and hot dogs, and Vicki had asked Lauren to pick up his birthday cake, which was beautifully decorated for a proud Alabama fan. Kenny & Pam, Kelly & Kevin, Kecia, Stephen, & Tyler, Karissa, Casey & Travis, Grannie and Grandaddy, Papa, and Robbie & I played with babies and ate wonderful food and wished Josh many more birthdays -- all while giving Vicki directions to the UAB parking deck by phone.
And THEN, I came home to check facebook to get updates on my Cougars -- and they LOST!! Fruit basket turnover??!! Heck, the basket was upside down! They should have won!! Oh my goodness!!
Finally, the clock went off at four this morning and Lauren and I drove to our gymnastics meet in Tuscaloosa. The Level 3 team placed third as a team, Becca was by herself on bars, and Anna Blake scored three 9's. Poor Mary Avery got sick right after arriving and had to go home. The meet was awesome -- Bama Bounders always hosts a great meet-- but of course Lauren and I were worried about our sick ones. I kept in touch all day by text, but we were glad to get home and make sure all was all right. Papa Greg was released this afternoon, and Kathy is having tests run and is feeling some better. Thank you, God, for answering prayers!!
Despite all the "upsets" of the weekend, I realize how blessed we all have been. At a time when it would be so easy to focus on the negatives, I am finding lots and lots of positives: Our team has had a 10-0 season; the doctors were quick to see that Greg got the help he needed; Kathy is getting state-of-the-art care and is getting better.;Greenville Gymnastics is making its name known, thanks to some very talented girls; and Lauren and I had a ONE-DAY meet and made it home safely.
Now to set the fruit basket right again...tomorrow is another day.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
It's a Conspiracy
There is something working against me at my house. That's the only explanation for the way the past several nights and mornings have gone.
Each night I go to bed so tired I can hardly walk. My eyes begin to close on their own. I get in the bed, get my pillow fixed, snuggle under the cover, and wait for the bliss of pure, uninterrupted sleep -- and then I get hot. Or the pillow has a wrinkle in it. Or my back itches. Or the light from my alarm clock keeps me awake. Or the dog barks. And all this goes on until two or three IN THE MORNING! When I finally fall asleep, it's time for Robbie to be getting up. And then I doze off and wake up late.
Ugh!!! I hate waking up late! Nothing goes right. Have you ever noticed that the days you wake up late are the days that your hair MUST be washed? And the pants you want to wear are playing undercover agent? And the shoes you need are in the truck, because you changed into tennis shoes after gym? And the keys are not to be found ANYWHERE??
There must be a conspiracy to keep my day from going well. But just at the point that I'm about to scream (that usually happens when I realize the I need to get gas before going to school), I remember the lesson Grace taught me just the other day--one she is learning in kindergarten where Ms. Daun uses a traffic light for behavior. "If you want to have a good day, just stay on the green. If you talk to much or do bad things, you might get on yellow or red. If you get on yellow, you can be real good again and get back on green. But if you get on red, life is not good. The best thing to do, ZiZi, is just stay on the green."
So I'm working very hard to stay on the green, because no gremlin conspiracy at my house is going to make me get on the red!
Each night I go to bed so tired I can hardly walk. My eyes begin to close on their own. I get in the bed, get my pillow fixed, snuggle under the cover, and wait for the bliss of pure, uninterrupted sleep -- and then I get hot. Or the pillow has a wrinkle in it. Or my back itches. Or the light from my alarm clock keeps me awake. Or the dog barks. And all this goes on until two or three IN THE MORNING! When I finally fall asleep, it's time for Robbie to be getting up. And then I doze off and wake up late.
Ugh!!! I hate waking up late! Nothing goes right. Have you ever noticed that the days you wake up late are the days that your hair MUST be washed? And the pants you want to wear are playing undercover agent? And the shoes you need are in the truck, because you changed into tennis shoes after gym? And the keys are not to be found ANYWHERE??
There must be a conspiracy to keep my day from going well. But just at the point that I'm about to scream (that usually happens when I realize the I need to get gas before going to school), I remember the lesson Grace taught me just the other day--one she is learning in kindergarten where Ms. Daun uses a traffic light for behavior. "If you want to have a good day, just stay on the green. If you talk to much or do bad things, you might get on yellow or red. If you get on yellow, you can be real good again and get back on green. But if you get on red, life is not good. The best thing to do, ZiZi, is just stay on the green."
So I'm working very hard to stay on the green, because no gremlin conspiracy at my house is going to make me get on the red!
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Fun with the Babies
What a fun weekend we had with all our babies! The fact that Daddy was still in the hospital was a damper, but we love to be able to play with all the kids and make memories with them. Josh and Vicki offered to take the "kids" on the hay ride for treats. Wow, at the "kids" that turned out! I think there were as many grown-ups as chidren! We took pictures before the big send off. Robert's children spent the night and went to church with us on Sunday.
4 Like arrows in the hands of a warrior are children born in one’s youth.
5 Blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them.
All my superheroes, angels, and dancers
The Mighty Trio
Dylan had a great time on the bike on Sunday
Daniel : "geddin' bedda with my wunnin"
Grace was a disco dancer for her school party
My girls -- can you tell Kaylee is sleepy?
Dylan was so proud of his tower in Children's Church.
I don't know why some of the pictures look blurry, but one thing is as clear as day: God has blessed us richly!
Psalm 127
3 Children are a heritage from the LORD, offspring a reward from him.
4 Like arrows in the hands of a warrior are children born in one’s youth.
5 Blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them.
Wizard of Oz kind of day
Yesterday was a day of "weirds." Lauren and I have joked about that some words cover A LOT of ground. Weird is one of those. First of all, an unusual event on the way to school. Now, my kids (students and biological) are accustomed to my saying, "Guess what? On the way to school today I...". They have become adept at filling in the blank with "hit a _____." Sometimes it's a deer; other times dogs commit suicide by using by truck. I hit a herd of pigs on the way home from dance practice with Lauren (she just reminded me of that.) Once I bumped an emu. Really. He flared his wing at me and I bumped him. Robert got nearly hysterical once when I hit a turtle because it "darted" in front of me, but it truly did!
But yesterday, nobody got the blank right. Grace and I were on our way to school when I saw what appeared to be an accident -- maybe a motorcycle or small car. The sun glinted off of blue and silver "metal." Then I got closer and, to my great joy, I saw the "victim" emerging from the "wreckage." Except there was no victim -- or wreckage. A man in a blue and silver helmet and one of those suits your REALLY have to like yourself to wear waved at me as he emerged from his PARACHUTE! A parachute! At 7:30 in the morning! On a Monday! Who does that?
But that did not end my day. On the way to gymnastics -- and I was running late because of computer techs and personality conflicts and printer problems -- we were slowed to a stop because a HOUSE was in the middle of the road! A house! In the road! On a Monday! Who does that?
Grace said, "ZiZi, what is going on?" All I could think of was Dorothy saying , "We're not in Kansas anymore."
Yep, it was certainly a weird day.
But yesterday, nobody got the blank right. Grace and I were on our way to school when I saw what appeared to be an accident -- maybe a motorcycle or small car. The sun glinted off of blue and silver "metal." Then I got closer and, to my great joy, I saw the "victim" emerging from the "wreckage." Except there was no victim -- or wreckage. A man in a blue and silver helmet and one of those suits your REALLY have to like yourself to wear waved at me as he emerged from his PARACHUTE! A parachute! At 7:30 in the morning! On a Monday! Who does that?
But that did not end my day. On the way to gymnastics -- and I was running late because of computer techs and personality conflicts and printer problems -- we were slowed to a stop because a HOUSE was in the middle of the road! A house! In the road! On a Monday! Who does that?
Grace said, "ZiZi, what is going on?" All I could think of was Dorothy saying , "We're not in Kansas anymore."
Yep, it was certainly a weird day.
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