Here's to Jim

As I've thought about blogging more lately, I wondered if I should change the name or change the focus of my blog. Looking back over old posts it became less and less about teaching and more and more about a spiritual journey. I found a lot of posts about my husband, just brushing the surface of how much he means to me. And I decided that teaching would be much, much harder if not for him.

I went back to college twenty years into our marriage. It would have been easy for him to complain about all the things I didn't do any more. Instead he went back to school with me. At first it was because I wanted to student teach overseas and he wanted a way to go with me. (There's a long story there.) It didn't work out that way, but together we made it through bachelor's programs and emerged stronger because of it (another long story).

My first year of teaching was horrible. I prayed for a heart attack, I questioned my sanity, I wondered repeatedly if I had done the wrong thing. I survived that year (and subsequent year) because my husband was there every step of the way with me. He was in my classroom fixing and making, he worked at home cutting miles of lamination and building stuff, he kept our home running, our family fed, and our spirits high.

This year has been a little different, a little easier. But he's still there. He brings matching shoes, clean clothes, birthday cakes, and flowers to school. He makes sure I'm fed. Because of him, teaching in a tough school is even more possible. Because of him, I have the time and support to become a great teacher. So I've decided that dedicating time about him in my blog about become a teacher is a very natural thing to do.

Here's to Jim, my partner in everything.

He Loves Me This Much...

My husband sends me Arizona Statehood Day flowers. It just so happens that Arizona Statehood Day and Valentine's Day are the same day. When I look at them I think, "Wow! Look how much he loves me." Silly thought! That's the least of how much he loves me. Let me count the ways...

1. He loves me so much, that on the day I wore two different shoes to work, he brought the mates of both shoes and a soda in the middle of his day off. That's how much he loves me.
2. He loves me so much that he bought not one but two birthday cakes at Costco for the WHOLE first grade...and he delivered them on his day off. That's how much he loves me.
3. He loves me so much that he calls me on my way home to ask how my day was...while he's at work saving lives. That's how much he loves me.
4. He loves me so much that when I report that I need to have a minor breakdown about one of the endeavors in my life that often exclude him, he just holds me and lets me cry. That's how much he loves me.
   
5. He loves me so much that when I "jokingly" say, "It's all about me," he says "Yes it is." And he means it. That's how much he loves me.
6. He loves me so much that he gets angry if I try to clean house on my day off because it's my only day off. That's how much he loves me.
   

My husband is GREAT gift giver. Life for him is simple: take care of his wife and children. I hear how much he loves me every day, but more importantly I SEE how much he loves me in more ways that just a bouquet of flowers. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE the roses, the perfect Christmas gifts, the tea pot and cups for my classroom, the books for my students.

In this season of love and gifts, I'm just thankful that that every day is Valentine's day at my house and that Arizona Statehood Day is an occasion for roses.

Field Day 2011. This little guy was very afraid of me at the beginning of the year. He asked to have his picture taken with me during lunch. Triumphs are not measured in huge steps, but by the smiles along the way.

Coveting

There is no doubt that coveting is bad. It ranks right up there with some of the big sins and I think that is because it makes one dissatisfied with their life and the blessings God has given them. However, I hear in my head the scripture that says, "But covet earnestly the best gifts; and yet shew I unto you a more excellent way." (1 Corinthians 12:31) I covet wisdom.

I am not a wise person. Daily interactions reinforces that to me. I wish I had the ability to reach into some mental file marked "Wisdom" and pull out the answers that I so desperately need. I found myself today in such a situation where I groped for the wisdom file and there was nothing inside. Frustration! Disappointment! Fear! Was I creating a potential disaster because I was acting without the temperance of wisdom?

What I do know is that my lack of wisdom forces me to seek out God and beg for His wisdom to be poured out on me. I would love that blessing to be mine in the form of the words that spring out of my mouth, but in recent situations, wisdom comes from those around me and I am wise enough to listen.

I covet wisdom.

Jumping to Conclusions

Is it a female thing or just a me thing that I jump to conclusions, to the worse case scenario? A friend asked me today, "What's the best case and worse case?" I answered worse case first, with all the gory details and must have talked for five minutes, and then best case which only took one or two minutes to report. Why, why do I choose to live in the frustration and pain of the worse case scenario? Several years ago as my grandmother was dieing and my girl cousins and I kept a night vigil while our moms went home and didn't sleep, I somehow determined that I did not want to live like the Israelites. They must have had the WORST memories in all of history. I would embrace the blessings, remember them, proclain them; I would not dwell in the desert. In fact over the years I have made it a little of a mantra, "I will not be like the Israelites, I will not be like the Israelites." But my mantra fails in those moments when the worse case scenario looms large.

But I'm trying. This time, I chose a new a mantra, "I will trust, and I will not be afraid. I will trust and I will not be afraid." When doubt crept in, I whispered, "I will trust and I will not be afraid." When fear snickered I repeated, "I will trust and I will not be afraid." When scenes rolled behind my closed eyes I spoke, "I will trust and I will not be afraid."

I will trust and I will not be not be afraid.

The Gift of Time

I used to think homemade gifts were cheesy. Not so much the afghans, baby sweaters and baby blankets because Granny made those kind of things for me and my children and I think they are beautiful. More like the cheesy poetry or worse still....cookies! When I was a full time stay at home mom, cookies were a past time. Need three dozen cookies for school? No problem, I'll just whip up a triple batch. That's three dozen for school, three dozen for the next church event and three dozen for the freezer in case someone drops over. Never, ever would store-bought cookies do as long as I had breath to breath. Cookies were not a gift, they were part of....well, they were part of life, something you had on hand.

Even after nearly two years, I still have not learned the art of managing my job and my home. And bake cookies? Haven't you tasted those delicious Lighthouse brand soft sugar cookies with one-half inch of delightful pink frosting? You want to talk bakers, let's talk about those AMAZING Keebler Elves! As much as may I yearn for fresh, hot-out-of-the-oven chocolate chip cookies, I just don't have the time or the energy to make them.

Along comes Valentine's Day. Unlike the past, when money was tight, and Valentine gifts were a bit more creative, this year I could have bought anything I wanted for my four Valentines. I shopped, I looked (ok, one afternoon in Kohl's...it's not like I'm good at managing my time), but I just couldn't find anything for Jim and Chase. I decided to bake them cookies. Monday night before they got home, I whipped up a 1.5 batch...just couldn't see myself staying awake until with a full double batch was baked. A triple batch? I'd still be baking today! I mixed and baked, and finally packaged my simple homemade gift. I was tired. I'd had a long day on my feet at school, and standing on the tile in my kitchen makes my legs ache a bit more. But the gift of cookies felt so much more significant to me than ever before because I gave up an evening of reading my book, or grading papers, or watching TV, or planning for next week, so that I could bake cookies for my family.

I am a selfish person. It would have been so easy to give my men something I bought plopped in a cute little gift bag that I could reuse. But this year I gave the gift of time. I'm thankful I have it to give.

P.S. Chase says that the cookies were amazing.

Thinking out loud

I know God puts people in our lives...and in turn places us in the lives of others so that we can shine the light of his Son and stand as a witness. I work with a teacher who talks to God often and personally. What is so cool, is that he listens and speaks to her. She recently told me about an experience in which she was praying for a student and how best to help him. During the night, the Lord spoke to her and told her exactly what to do...and she did what he told her to do. I was impressed that this student was given into her care because she would lift him up to God and I told her that. Lucky kid, to have a prayer warrior for a teacher.

I realized how much I love those kind of conversations. Talking about God and his goodness and his blessings to his children. I crave them, much like I crave a good salad without even knowing it. When I finally get around to having salad, I realize how much I missed it on my steady diet of fast and convenient food. My teacher friend reminded me of my obligation to pray for my students and in turn that reminded me of the opportunity of have to pray for my loved ones.

I have a heritage of Godly women with deep connections to the Almighty. Both of my grandmothers were prayer warriors. Each met a different kind of end to this life, but one for which they had been prepared. My paternal grandmother feared the process of death, but passionately yearned for the eternity. So she prayed frequently that her passing would be easy. God answered her prayers, surrounding her with family, and taking her quietly in the night. My mom's mom told me that she'd had a dream in which she died and was met by her family. They asked, "How was your passing, Glady?" "Terrible," she told them, "but if I'd known what was waiting for me, I'd do it again." She suffered a first terrible, debilitating stroke, and then a second four months later. She languished for seven days in which my aunts had to make tough, heart-rendering decisions. Even at that, we all knew what waited for her. When she passed away, there was no question of who met her and what joy she knew. Both grandmothers passed their love of God and the gospel of Jesus Christ to their children. Both lived a life that exemplified their deep and abiding love of God and His son.

So, surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, what slows down my walk with God? I think it is that slow, steady diet of not-so-bad stuff that dulls me to the need for sustenance; real, nutritious, sustenance. And that, I believe, is why the scriptures talk about the need for the last days to be shortened or even the very elect will not be saved. The convenience of this life lulls us into passivity. The pace of our lives exhausts us and feeds the need for convenience. A vicious cycle.

I am thankful for the righteous people God puts in my life.