Power Made Perfect in Weakness

How Firm a Foundation

2011-10-30T17:24:00.001-05:00

The older I get, the more I appreciate the beginning of my life. I have to admit that my childhood was relatively idyllic, in large part due to my parents, my siblings, and Granny Lee. I also realize just how blessed I was because of my parents' decision to be a part of a body of believers in Christ. I grew up within the sheltering arms of the family of faith at Union Chapel General Baptist Church in Portland, Tennessee. My parents have been members since they were newlyweds, so that makes it sixty years. The church has a beautiful white steeple that reaches heavenward, stained-glass windows, large steps outside and houses more memories than I can chronicle in one measly post. It's been through renovations, of course, but the building is not exactly what I am talking about, although I love the building itself. I will never forget the Christmas play when someone's straw hat caught on fire and Jonathan King had to put it out. I got sick on Fritos once in the basement when there were Sunday school rooms down there, and I still don't care for the chips. I remember sitting on the steps going into the basement listening to the sermon to see if if worship was over on the occasions when my friends Donna Mathias and Michelle Lane and I would help get the food ready for an after-service meal. I love the building that is Union Chapel Church.
Union Chapel Church is not a building, though. Union Chapel Church is people, a family of faith. I'm so thankful for the memories of have of growing up within its walls, of the lessons I learned there, and the willing people who showed me Christ's love within those walls. A few Bible lessons I have learned here:

2 Timothy 3:14 - "But you must remain faithful to the things you have been taught. You know they are true, for you know you can trust those who taught you. You have been taught the holy Scriptures from childhood, and they have given you the wisdom to receive the salvation that comes by trusting in Christ Jesus." Bottom line - April 23, 1981 I got a new life, a new life that I wouldn't have without the teaching I received here. From the first sweet lady who held me in the Nursery and sang "Jesus Loves Me" to my last Sunday school teacher, I was taught the Word of God. I knew the Scriptures enough that when my faith was tested as a teen, I was able to stand up for my beliefs.
Luke 5:5 - "But if you say so, I'll let the nets down again." Every Sunday morning before adult worship, we children would gather in front of the congregation and sing a few songs we had learned in Sunday school. "Zaccheus," a song about a wise man building his house upon a rock, "Deep and Wide," and the song that is taken from the Scripture above, something about "casting your nets on the other side." I won't even go into how many years it's been since I sang these songs, but I still remember them and the accompanying hand motions.
There are too many names to list but so very many people who have showed Christ's love to me and continue to radiate His love to this very day. I am very thankful for all of my brothers and sisters in Christ here at Union Chapel, and I love them.

Adios

2011-10-01T20:08:00.000-05:00

I have met and made many friends over the course of my forty years of life, but I can say only a handful of them have truly made me a better person, have called me to a higher standard of living. One such friend is Nery Alonso Ramey. Nery and I first met when she was the speaker in my classroom for Career Day, and then she observed my principal for a class in administration. She later interviewed for a position teaching Spanish just down the hallway from me. This began a lengthy friendship filled with many laughs and a lot of learning about different cultures. Nery is Dominican and grew up in Chicago. I have learned more about culture and being open to new experiences, be it food or customs, from her than any other person I have ever met. She tells you exactly how it is and does not apologize. She has little use for the sugarcoating we Southerners mask our true feelings in, so if you want the truth, the real truth, Nery is who you want. She will have your back because she is fiercely loyal, but she will also tell you if you need to step back because you're overreacting. She won't do it in front of people to belittle you though.

Food is very important to Nery. Nery can make a trip to Wal-Mart an adventure. We could get a loaf of French bread and some Alouette and that would be a treat. She loved it when I would try new foods because I am such a picky eater. Even if I didn't like the food, she was proud that I would at least give them a chance. We loved to randomly burst out in song to obscure 80's hits like "It's Raining Men." For years, we made fun of this dance workout called Zumba and we said we were going to learn to do it. Finally, last year, Zumba came to Portland and we got to go to Zumba class together. For this reason, we call each other Zumbita. A few months ago, we found out Nery was going to China to teach. I knew she hadn't been content at our school for a while, so this was no surprise, but I kept putting off really thinking about her leaving. She has been gone now since August.

I am still having trouble facing the fact that Nery is no longer at work with me. I didn't even officially say goodbye. I know it's silly, but I just can't. Everything about work is so horrible, and it's one more thing I just can't cope with among so many other things. I found these pictures of a night where we took our colleague Karen out for her retirement dinner. Nery is goofing for the camera with Franklin or goofing at me. I miss her. Having her back wouldn't make everything better, I know, but I just miss my friend. We still have Facebook and email, but I miss her walking up to me in the hall, rubbing my arm when I have on a fuzzy sweater. I miss her saying, "Ai Ai Ai" when something is bad. I miss watching her interact with the kids because she was a wonderful teacher. I miss her sage advice. I hope the people who are working with her now realize what a gem they have in their midst.

Threads of Blue

2011-06-21T20:57:00.000-05:00

This year ended the Ducks...it's a long story. Suffice it to say, I would have never ended them, it, us, on my own, and so, because all good things must come to an end, my Abba allowed this one to end as well, I can see now, for my own good. I know it's for my own good because all things work together for good for those who love the Lord and are called according to His purpose (Romans 8:28). I don't feel great about it. Today I have cried about it, and right this moment, I am unspeakably tired, but I know whom I have believed and I am persuaded that He is able to finish the good work that He started. I realize I'm half-quoting Scripture every other sentence, but that's what is coming to my mind right now. It's time for a clean slate.

Yesterday as I descended the stairs to my house on the way to yet another funeral for another duck, I wondered how many times I would have to make this journey. I wondered if I were one of the few teachers who had lost so many students or maybe I was just one of the few who kept up with something so macabre? Why did it affect me so much? Why did I care?Why did I take each death so personally? It is with the death of this latest angel Duck, Matt Wilson, that I believe I have finally come to some semblance of peace about this.

I care deeply for all my Ducks. I see the task of educating them as first seeing them as people, getting to know them. Then, as I know them, I can see best how to reach them and see what will work best for them. I don't reach all of them, obviously. My angel Ducks all have one thing in common. They have never been intensely close with me; however, they have all been special to me. They've all had a particular story or instance that is theirs alone. That doesn't happen with every student, unfortunately. I hope the students who don't have a story or an instance with me do have that with SOMEONE because building that relationship with an adult is paramount to a learning situation. ALL of my Angel Ducks had that with me. ALL of them.

Threads. Woven together with threads of blue, like the waters of a pond. Matt Wilson's service was held at Halltown Church, the same place where Dylan Viator's service was held. Matt Wilson is buried a few rows behind Noah Wilson, and no, I don't think they're related, but they would've got a kick out of each other. Noah's father, Phil, preached Dylan's funeral. I was coming back from Noah's funeral when I heard about Richard Smith dying. Richard Smith and Joey Link were in the same class - fourth period - my first time to teach Senior Standard English- the class who christened the Ducks. Joey Link was buried in a cemetery on Jernigan Road, the same road where David McGee died. Curtis Forbes was David's friend who told me that it was okay that I didn't think I could go to David's funeral, but I went to Curtis' memorial the next January because by then I had learned that denial helped nothing. My girls who have died - Tabitha Hyten and Cyndi Thompson - were both mothers and that breaks my heart in ways I can't put to words. Noah Wilson and Dewayne Barber both died on motorcycles and that makes me want to tell everyone to be so cautious driving around them and really see them. I don't know what happened to Kane Knight or Kurt Parsons exactly. There's so much information we get at second-hand.

I have learned from these Angel Ducks some lessons...I learned I have to be there to grieve them. I can't just shrug them off and say, "oh well, I hate that" and go on. I have to be at the funeral if at all possible, surrounded by their friends, I have to cry, relive memories, hug their moms, remember them, any and all of that I am able to do. It's my grieving process. It may not be yours, but that's mine.

My Angel Ducks, my Ducks, my Duck babies...now as teenagers....and now the end of the Ducks...a nice, respectable run. I think it's time to focus now on two precious people who often get overlooked in all my oohing and ahhing and crying and worrying over Ducks. They weren't here when the Ducks were hatched (pun intended) but they're more important than anything else I will ever do, even more than being Momma Duck.

Sinclair

2011-06-17T16:34:00.001-05:00

There are those people who are born to be parents, born to be around kids. My sister is one of those. Kids flock to her. Like moths to a flame, they are drawn to her incandescent light. She showers them with her loving attention, giving them just the right mix of independence and attentiveness. She's a master gardener of children, and they blossom in her presence. I should know; I was the first flower in her garden. Perhaps that is why when she had her own children and my brother had his, it was difficult for me to transition from flower to gardener. Truth to tell, I have not yet made the transition. I am still a flower in my sister's garden, and with her being a grandmother of three, it's relatively crowded around here. However, my growth as a flower is over; now I simply bask in the sunlight or rain, whatever is remaining after she nurtures her other flowers. She was born to be a gardener of children. I was not.

I was not born to be gifted with children. One might think that with the profession I have that I would love children. I teach teenagers. They are not children, and when they act like young children, I do not like being their teacher. I always wanted to be a mother because I always thought that I would be a mother because my mother was a mother, and her mother was a mother. Kind of odd thinking, but there you have it. I got pregnant, lived through nine of the worst months of my life, had my son, had about nine more of the worst months of my life (with apologies to said son who was/is precious) and slowly wrapped my mind around the REALITY of motherhood. That's an entirely different post for another day...that could be an entirely different BOOK, but I digress. Into the middle of my new motherhood stage of getting my footing, feeling my way in the dark, I got a tremendous gift.

AVERY SINCLAIR WATERS

Simply typing, seeing his name here makes me smile, lift my shoulders, sigh, and think back to that dark morning at the end of May in 2001 when I drove to Nashville to see my best friend since college give birth to her first son. I had no idea how much this event would change my life. I had seen my own son born, for crying out loud. How could this be so radically different? I suppose it was the fact that when my son was born I was convinced I was going to die and every molecule I possessed was searching for survival. I was in no pain whatsoever when Avery made his grand entrance into the world. My best friend, Susan, would tell you differently. She would tell you that I had to hold her leg for an interminable duration of time. It was hours, truly, but I learned something in those early morning hours of Avery's birth day. Love covers nearly everything. I know I held her leg a long time, and as a co-worker would point out to me later, it wasn't the least unmessy thing I've ever seen either. Those things simply didn't matter. I wish I could tell you it's because I'm the kind of person who is unfazed by such things; I am not. I'm so squeamish, it's crazy. I gag at the sight of most things gross. However, on that early May morning as the sun rose on Nashville, I held the leg of my best friend, encouraging her, willing that new little life to come on out and get his mother out of pain, my love for him, my love for her was so encompassing that I didn't see, didn't hear, didn't notice anything until the MOMENT.

One moment...there was nothing. And then. There he was. Sigh. The most beautiful, God-filled thing I have ever seen. Instant love. Instant joy. And in an instant, I would slay a thousand dragons for him. It finally happened. I was a gardener....at least for this tiny life...because he took hold of me that day and has yet to let go.

Happy 10th Birthday, Avery.

Love, Aunt Meri

What I Did on Summer Vacation

2010-07-25T18:35:00.000-05:00

1. Watched Ramona & Beezus with Kinsey and her friends' moms
2. Kissed a stingray for good luck
3. Watched Grown Ups with my husband at a late movie
4. Had a sleepover at my best friend's house
5. Hosted a scrapbooking party
6. Watched Marmaduke with Kinsey
7. Escorted four six year olds to Toy Story 3
8. Joined the pool and got a tan
9. Went to two beautiful weddings
10. Realized how blessed I truly am while visiting places in the Caribbean
11. Discovered that professional chefs can mess up brownies and cheesecake
12. Watched Kinsey learn to hold her breath underwater
13. Conned my godsons into letting me kiss them anytime I want

14. Learned how to be a better teacher at two wonderful staff development sessions
15. Started reading the Harry Potter books
16. Sampled Chicago-style Italian beef
17. Met people from all over the USA
18. Rediscovered how much I love my husband and what a good man he is
19. Drove three hours with a huge, green stuffed dog shoved in my car between me and my husband
20. Helped preschoolers do VBS crafts and appreciated my high school students even more after working with second graders

Life's Little Celebrations

2010-07-25T18:18:00.000-05:00

Yesterday afternoon, I watched two of my former students get married. As I was sitting there, I realized the last time I was in my church for an event (not regular worship) was at Noah's funeral. I was struck by this thought and chagrined to realize that I forget to stop and celebrate the wonderful things that happen to my Ducks everyday. Yes, I have lost a few of them, but how many weddings have I attended? How many babies have I held? How many college graduation announcements have I recieved? I wish I were able to go to every event, but my own schedule often keeps me from doing that. At the wedding of Allison Hicks and Alec Hardin, I was watching their video before the wedding and thinking how blessed I was to know them. Alec was in my class as a freshman and a senior, so like Noah, I had watched him grow up. Allison was in a class with mostly all girls and every day was like a learning party. One weekend the class went to Demos' to eat and then went bowling, and Allison rode with me. The memories I had of both of them filled my head as I watched their video. Then, as Allison and Alec's bridal party entered the church and I saw more of my former students, I was filled with indescribable love and happiness. At the reception, I got the chance to talk to those students and catch up on their lives. I watched them run after their own children, and I couldn't tell you exactly what the feeling was, but it was something close to pride or gratitude that I had been given a chance to be a part of their lives or a mixture of both. Last night showed me that while I will never be EVERYONE'S favorite teacher, I have made a difference in some of their lives just because I love them, and they know it.

Broken Butterfly

2010-07-12T20:57:00.002-05:00

Last week when we were in Roatan at a butterfly farm, we saw one Monarch butterfly that was, as Kinsey put it, "broken." It lay on the ground helplessly waiting to be able to fly again. For at least fifteen years, butterflies have been my special symbol. It started with Chrysalis, but this year has shown me even more how I am like the butterflies I adore. I am fragile yet strong enough to fight my way out of the cocoon. I have been broken like this butterfly - broken by betrayal, gossip, and hurtful words and actions of those I have only tried to be good to and help. I can fly, but often my fear keeps me from taking flight - fear of failure, of censure. This fear creeps up on me, asking if I am really doing my best since so many take my words and actions as something so unworthy. I realize I have only to please my God, but it still hurts when people are critical of me, especially when I thought these people were my friends. I am really struggling with this lesson. I haven't learned it, even though I have had similar experiences over the years. I have to find my worth in who I am in Christ, not what anyone thinks of me. Maybe I haven't been the best teacher this year, but I do know that I did the best I could at the time. Like my butterfly friend, I am taking this time to regroup, rest, and see myself through Christ's eyes. Being a broken butterfly doesn't mean I'm finished because He who began a good work in me will see it through to completion. I KNOW this. No matter what I feel - what hurt, what uncertainty, I KNOW my times are in God's hands. And it's only in His hands that this broken butterfly can take flight once more.

Letter to Susan...look at this awesome picture of you!

2010-04-12T19:57:00.005-05:00

Dear Susan,
Looking at this picture of you, there are many things that come to mind. Here they are, in no particular order and to anyone not Susan (or Harve) these may not make any sense.

1. I'm gonna knock you out.
2. This is a really good picture of you. Yes it is. No, you're not fat.
3. Thank you for lying to me and telling me I'm not fat
4. We've really got to be kinder to ourselves.
5. Chickamawchickamawmaw
6. Whatcha gonna do with your life someday?
7. Killing a spider on your wedding day, although I would have been glad to take out the Rat as well.
8. Don't forget, I'm the most important person in this picture. ROTFLMBO
9. The sheer joy of Avery being born...thank you, my friend for the chance to be there for you
10. Showing up in October 2008 and being the voice of reason
11. No one's gonna see you do the Raptor here! LOL
12. What is the Latin root for restaurant?
13. You always take my side even if I'm wrong
14. You found a guy to marry who is perfect for you. As a team of four, we could be the goofiest people on this planet. As an extended family of eight, we're even goofier.
15. "If you can't get along with Susan, you can't get along with anyone."
16. Having the second child of our twins...two weeks apart.
17. Finding my signature color...mine and yours together are Christmas! :)
18. The many shoes I have bought..Hah~
19. Quit being a should ask!
20. You are the most forgiving, awesome person I know. As my Sissy would say, God and Jesus sent you down...just for me.

Noah

2010-03-23T19:50:00.004-05:00

I'm going somewhere tomorrow where I don't want to go and witnessing something I don't want to see. The physical place is not undesirable; it's my church. What I am witnessing is something I've seen more than I would like, although once would have been enough for me. Tomorrow, I go to say goodbye to a former student. To understand fully how difficult this is for me, one would have to know that I get extremely attached to my students. Some time, in the seventeen years I have been in this profession, I began to think of the students in my class as my own "good deposit" that was entrusted to me by God. They have a nickname - the Ducks; I have a nickname - Momma Duck. I've seen their babies, their weddings, and got invitations to showers, college graduations, postcards from their traveling abroad, and pop in Facebook nearly every day, mostly to check on them. The fact that they have graduated is irrelevant. God placed them with me, and my job, more important than teaching English, is showing them His unconditional love. Obviously, I am better at this some days than others, and some students are easier to show that love.

There is a small group of Ducks I have lost: Tabitha Hyten, Joey Link, David McGee, Dylan Viator, Curtis Forbes, Dewayne Barber, Cyndi Thompson, Kurt Parsons. They had a lot of teachers during their time in school, and I know I was only one of many, but I also know that there was a connection with each of them that stands out in my mind. Tomorrow, I add to my list of Angel Ducks a precious soul named Noah Wilson. In the picture above, Noah is on the left, giving his best "attitude" look.

Even typing his name here seems unreal. How could he have been sitting in my classroom this time last year and now be awaiting burial? His infectious smile has been in my mind for days, telling me that no one this full of life could be dead. Then I look to the paragraph above and see the names of those other Ducks and recall how unreal their deaths seemed as well. As I said, some Ducks let me love them more than others. Noah was one of those; he was a likable guy. When he entered Portland High School his freshman year, he and his classmates at the end of the alphabet were assigned to a mentor teacher, a "halftime" teacher. That would be me, and of course, being the sensitive person I am, I relished this opportunity to encourage a group of students and help them to stay in school. I delivered birthday cards to them on their respective days each year (I don't think I missed a year...) and was thrilled to be able to teach many of them in English.

Noah was in my first period Senior English in the spring of 2009. Like most of my seniors, he was PAST ready to be out of school. When he graduated, unlike others, he hugged our principal instead of going for the obligatory handshake. That was classic Noah. There are lots of little memories of Noah I've collected over the years. The latest one was finding out about his death on Sunday morning. I've cried. I've been stoic. I've cried more. I've masked my pain behind jokes and sometimes silly anger over silly things. And I've cried. My stomach has churned in dread and fear of tomorrow. Tomorrow it becomes real, and I need it to be real because it being real means I have to face it. I have to give that "good deposit" of Noah back to God because he was His long before Noah was a Duck. My pain in no way could compare to Noah's sweet family or his longtime friends, but I know (and more importantly) Noah knew (and still knows) he is important to me, and I love him. I know he'll have a joke for me when I go to my heavenly home; he probably will sneak out behind something and try to scare me or just be there with his arms out like, "What took you so long, Momma Duck?"

I don't want to say goodbye, but I must, and I discovered that this is what it will take in order for me to let go. I have to be there. My heart has to mourn for a while and then be refreshed in knowing (as much as we can know about anyone else) that I will see him again. And that he is okay. In fact, to borrow from my title for Noah's senior prophecy (another Duck tradition), he is "more than fine." I meant it to rhyme with 09, but in this case, Noah truly is more than fine. And his Momma Duck is going to be okay too.

15 Facts in 15 Years without my Father in Love

2010-02-03T17:46:00.004-06:00

1. I am stronger than I think.
2. I have felt you close to me in times of worry or sadness.
3. I am proud of the legacy you helped to create for my children.
4. Your Coming Home brought me closer to Christ and opened my heart for my Emmaus experience.
5. You really were the best driver in the White family.
6. I miss you.
7. I am proud to have your name.
8. I know you were in Heaven waiting to welcome your best friend this past summer.
9. There is so much of you in my husband.
10. We really were kindred spirits.
11. Your wife is the strongest and bravest person I know.
12. Your grandkids are four of the best people I know.
13. Bob White Quail sound as though they are saying your name.
14. On the worst day of my life, I knew exactly what you would say, and it brought me comfort.
15. I love you, and tell Jackie that I am still your girl.

Rock Ma Knock Ma Sock Ma Knock Ma Knock Ma Rock

2010-02-01T11:10:00.002-06:00

On a brisk autumn night in 1997, I returned to my house in Castalian Springs after an exhausting and exhiliarating weekend serving on Chrysalis #7. There was a large black dog when I got there. Because I had been tormented by a childhood bully who threatened me with large dogs, I was a little skittish of being around this dog. I learned that Ralph had been mowing the yard the previous day when he saw this dog, and being the tender heart he is, got this stray black Lab some leftovers. Chicken and Dumplings were his first meal with us, and he stayed. (They WERE, after all, my mother's cooking, and he was a smart dog.) The next morning as I was making way out the door, he clamored for my attention, and I said, "Rocky, move." I don't know why I called him Rocky off the top of my head, but there it was - Rocky, my new dog, my first dog, and at that time, my only dog. Rocky was a puppy more or less when he found us. He was in that "chewing" stage. He chewed the cables from the TV, the neighbor's yard sale items, the bottom of the wooden posts on the front porch of our log home. He was as skittish of me at first as I was of him; Ralph thought that someone might have hurt him because he would hang back before he greeted anyone. Before long, I grew to love my gentle giant. Ralph would sing this little song when we would leave to reassure him we would return: "Rock Ma Knock Ma Sock Ma Knock Ma Knock Ma Rock."

Rocky got a "sister" not too long after that when another black Lab stray came to the house. Since Rocky was like "Rocky Top," this other dog would be Rachel, for Rachel Jackson, Andrew Jackson's wife. Rocky was terrified of storms and always tried to come in the front door of our log home. We would let him stay in the foyer when the storms were particularly intense. He loved to ride in Ralph's Mustang. We even have a picture of him where it looks as though Rocky is driving Drake around in the car. He was excited by the scraps my mother would bring him, particulary the ham bones she lovingly bagged up for Rocky and Rachel.

He was an adamant defender of us, my parents, and later our children. My parents loved him as much as anyone, which was bizarre since they had never allowed me a dog while I was growing up. He "treed" raccoons several times, warned of impending visitors or UPS men, and when the blinds for Drake's nursery arrived, promptly chewed them up before we got home. He watched as we brought home Drake and later Kinsey, and quickly transfered his affection for us to these new little creatures. He always made me feel safe and protected those long Friday nights when I was alone and Ralph was at football.

Rocky and Rachel had to be pinned up when we lived at the rental house on 109, and they hated that, I know. I was glad when moved into our new home that they could explore the creeks and woods surrounding our new home. Labs are a very affectionate and protective breed. One day when Kinsey was two or three, the neighbor's dog, Bangie, acted as though he was going to jump on Kinsey. Rocky sprung into action-moving so quickly my mother was stunned- to get the little dog away from his girl.

For the past several months, it has been apparent to us that Rocky was not well. We had owned him for thirteen years, and he wasn't even a full-fledged puppy when he came to us. He had trouble getting up and down, running out to meet the car, and even got to the point that he couldn't get up to urinate or poop. We have dreaded this day now for several months. My mother kept telling me that Rocky was hurting. I kept telling myself that he would be okay. Even this morning I asked Ralph if we couldn't take him to the vet to see what could be done to make him better. Loving someone means making tough decisions, doing what is best for them, even though the thought of letting go of them fractures our very soul. We had been through this with Samantha (our kitty), but I suppose where we have had Rocky so much longer, it is harder to accept. This morning, Ralph told me he was going to take Rocky to the vet. I sat down on our garage steps and petted his head, told him I loved him, and he looked at me, his large brown eyes full of sadness because I think, he knew I was saying good bye. Drake also went and told him goodbye, and we all cried. I went back in the house, and later when I checked, Ralph had made it out of the snow-filled driveway.

I'm sure that Biblical scholars would say that dogs do not go to Heaven, but when I think about my Rocky, I wonder how he couldn't. His sweet, gentle nature, his love for us, his devotion to us are some of the best things God gave us in this world. I recently read a book called Elsewhere, and in it, dogs go to Elsewhere (the afterlife) and can even talk. Whether or not it's true, it gives me comfort to think of Rocky disembarking from the cruise ship on the shores of Elsewhere, being greeted by Bobby Joe and Granny Lee, for who else would love me and Ralph so much that they would take care of our sweet dog? In this Elsewhere, I see Rocky, being able to run again and play. Bobby Joe would throw him a stick to fetch, and Granny Lee would give him scraps and rub his ears, reassuring him that he will see us again.

Goodbye, my gentle giant. You are loved.

The Word Became Flesh

2010-01-01T12:22:00.002-06:00

I have been terribly remiss in updating this blog, so in this brand new year full of brand new possibilities, I will endeavor to, at the very least, check in and update on the major events in life. Since my last posting, a new school year started on our new year-round schedule. I have mixed emotions about this change since the summer felt all too short. I did complete my professional development this summer, so I suppose that is why it DID feel so short; I worked all the way through it. This began my seventeenth year in the teaching profession. I know that God has called me to this mission field, at least in the past, and I have to rest in the fact that if He wants me moved, He will move me. My youngest child started Kindergarten, and my oldest is loving the fourth grade. The biggest change in our lives was that Ralph retired from coaching high school football. He is still the head coach at the middle school, but this requires much less time and stress than high school ball.

My birthday this year was mixed with blessings and challenges and always the feeling that if I could only do better, be better, people would make right choices and things would go more smoothly. How very naive. And at 39, being naive doesn't serve anyone, but I still believe in the power of the Holy Spirit working through His people.

Since I grew up in church, always hearing the stories of the Bible, as I have matured, it has become almost rote, at least until my Emmaus experience. I will never forget the day that I TRULY understand the gift of Christ during clown communion on Chrysalis 8. This year at Christmas, I understand more tangibly even more about that gift, that God put on on our "injured flesh" and came to live with us and experience our humanity, to be the sacrifice that we could never be. Part of it was watching THE NATIVITY STORY movie. I feel so bad for complaing about either one of my pregnancies after actually "getting it" about how difficult it was for Mary and Joseph. I may have itched for nine months, but I didn't have endure the scorn of my community and ride a long distance on a donkey to give birth in a place where animals slept. It occured to me that if God was going to make that time easy, wouldn't he have done that for Mary? Since it wasn't, I have to conclude that our momentary comfort and convenience are worth very little in God's perspective. I hope that this realization will keep me grounded in His word.

With this great revelation came challenges. I was so ready for Christmas, to truly embrace its real meaning and revel in His love. I failed the test. I allowed petty annoyances from others to rob me of my joy. I allowed myself to be defensive and hurt when family was not loving or kind to me. All I can say is that I am going to endeavor to show the love of Christ even more in 2010 when confronted with mean-spirited or stink-stirring or critical people. Because I can be all of those as well without the help of my Jesus.

And so I face this new year full of new possibilites with hope. Not the hope of man, not the belief that a person will radically change our lives, but the hope that no matter what comes my way, that at the end of the day, Heaven is my home, and Christ is my Hope.

Daddy, Uncle Robert, Steve & Bobby Joe

2009-06-21T17:41:00.006-05:00

I've written before about my Daddy and the many things about him that I love. Like any parent, he has his challenges and things I know he wishes he could do better, communication being one of them. In The Prince of Tides, Pat Conroy writes that his character, Tom Wingo, "learned to love my parents in all their flawed humanity," I think that's all any of us can do as parents - to do our best, day in and day out and hope someday that our kids realize at the end of the day that we're human, we're flawed, and we've done the best we knew to do. I've been turning over in my mind an idea for quite a while, mostly spurred by my many readings of Where the Heart Is...that God provides us family in many different people, not just in those attached to us by blood. For Mothers' Day (and probably many other times), I wrote about my Granny Lee. My life has been resplendent with strong women role models, and I am thankful for them. I have not been as blessed with as many male role models, yet their influences are as far-reaching as the many female inspirations on my life. I'd like to share with you about some of the most important men in my life, the fathers who have "fathered" me, provided me with whatever part of life my own Daddy was unable to give.

And I do mean unable to give...my own father was raised by a man not biologically his father. This could have been a wonderful opportunity to show love despite blood bonds. It was not. So, when those who only see the surface of my Daddy, who can be so gruff, grumpy, or otherwise negative, I think of the little boy he used to be, picking up rocks while his younger brothers and sisters played. He had to work from a very young age, and my "grandparents" were not ones to mince words. I feel certain that if he was not called the name, he knew from a very young age, that he was not as good as his siblings, simply because of something out of his control - his parentage.

It would sound from the previous paragraph that my aunts and uncles had a glorious childhood while my Daddy labored away. This is not the case, either; I simply point out that in this "family," Daddy got the worst of the worst. Seven years after my Daddy was born, my "grandparents" did one of the few really great things they ever did...they had my Uncle Robert. You can't see the smile on my face, but Uncle Robert was a man who made you smile. The very thought of him makes me smile. I loved him, and I loved who my Daddy was while he was with "Brother." Uncle Robert was named my godfather, that he and my Aunt Bert would raise me if something happened to Momma and Daddy. They lived in Georgia, and this was the only place we would visit as I was growing up. Uncle Robert loved with a fierceness and had no problem communicating that love. I once asked Uncle Robert how someone as loving and kind as he is was raised by my "grandparents." He explained that it was because my Daddy had raised him. In 2003, Uncle Robert went home to be with Jesus, and I will be forever grateful that he was a part of my life. I can still hear his beloved voice saying, "Hello, love."

Another man who has been extremely influential in my life is a man who is not a father at all. He was my piano teacher, fifth grade teacher, and mentor, Steve Deasy. Since the day I stood on the porch outside his house awaiting my first piano lesson, he has been a steadfast source of inspiration and devotion. I couldn't tell you exactly why we bonded the way we did, but it has been powerful and lasting. I always knew I could count on him to support me and offer encouragement when I needed it most. My fifth grade year in school was magical. Learning was so much fun. Everything we did was fun...even MATH and PE were fun with Mr. D. I know I am not the only person who is eternally grateful for that wonderful year, but I am one of the few who maintained a relationship with Steve. When he moved from Portland, most people would have abandoned the young girl I was, but Steve and I continued to correspond with letters, on his part filled with wisdom, on my part filled with teenage angst. He was playing my signature song as I walked down the aisle to get married (the song he had introduced me to many years ago - Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini). He wrote a song especially for me and my new husband that he played at the wedding. He was there to see each of my children right after they were born. He has taught me many life lessons, and again, I thank God for the privilege of being his friend. his surrogate daughter.

The last person I want to talk about is the hardest to talk about, although I speak of him often and have written about him many times. On this Father's Day, I wish more than I can say that I could spend one more day with him. Here is what I love about my father in law, Bobby Joe - that fourteen years later I can still cry and miss him and wish he were "somehow here again." I love that he loved me and let me know. I love that he accepted me and embraced me into his family. I love his sense of humor, his work ethic, the way he would wash his truck while it was snowing (!!!), the way he got up at the crack of dawn and expected everybody else to as well, the mountain pies he made when we went camping, the way he called me "his girl." And so I am, and proud to be so, the mother of his grandchildren, the wife of his youngest son. More than any of these, I love that I know I will see him again because of the decision he made for Christ while he was on earth.

Sometimes I imagine my Uncle Robert and Bobby Joe, my father in love, sitting in Heaven, "camping in Canaan's land." Uncle Robert would be fishing and Bobby Joe would fry up the fish. I imagine that, although unlikely, they look down, particularly at this nearly five year old daughter of mine (who they would be absolutely over the moon for) and laugh at how she manipulates us all, particularly "Brother" and Patricia...and yes, their girl.

Memorial Day

2009-05-24T14:39:00.002-05:00

Until a few years ago, Memorial Day was simply a day off work, filled with sleeping in and a cookout. Although my own father is a veteran of the Korean War, I never really considered what this holiday means. All of that changed the day I learned that one of my own precious, precious Ducks had died while in service to our country. I know that I have many former students who serve our nation, and I am thankful for them, and for my other friends in the military. I have already written about the plethora of emotions that I have experienced in losing my students. I've lost too many, and it never gets any easier. Since it is Memorial Day, I want to tell you my memories of Joey Link, a Duck in the Air Force.

I've probably known Joey all of his life since his mother's home church and mine are the same. Joey was in the Class of 1996, the first group of students to whom I taught Senior Standard English. We were in my tiny classroom at the old PHS, and this was before block scheduling, so I taught this group for one hour the entire school year. Joey was in fourth period, which was then the lunch period. He was a cut-up, as so many in the class were. I suppose the reason he has stayed so fresh in my mind after all these years is that he, Cory Cook, and Jason Chaffin made a video over the novel we read, and I have shown it every year since then. When Joey graduated, he joined the Air Force and was a recruiter; I still have one of his business cards in my scrapbook. The last time I saw him, he was in the Portland parade, driving a little plane with one of his sons. I yelled at him, and he looked over, smiled and yelled back, "Hey, Mrs. White!" I snapped a picture, and he continued down the parade route. It would be the last time I would ever see him in person.

He eventually moved out of the area and was stationed in Texas when he was sent overseas. He was able to do the thing he loved - fly airplanes. While he was there, he became ill and died in August of 2007. His funeral was on the first day of school, but I couldn't NOT be there, so I took a bereavement day and left. I absolutely detest funeral homes...I suppose no one enjoys them...but I went, by myself, because I felt that I owed it to him. His casket was closed, which I suppose was just as well. The memory I have of him is the day he smiled and waved at me in the parade, and that's a much nicer memory to have than of him in a casket.

There were so many touching aspects of Joey's funeral - the motorcycle riders who accompanied his body from the airport to the funeral home, the people who stood outside the funeral home in 100 degree weather holding the Flag, the fly over and "Taps" being played at the burial, the 21 gun salute (which actually made me jump; he would have been tickled at that part). There was a tribute page on the internet where people left messages for his family and friends. A complete stranger emailed me to ask if she could forward a poem to me to give to Joey's mom. I was dreading going to the funeral by myself, but there was no one to go with me. Thankfully, as I was leaving the service, another of my precious Ducks, Chasity Crabtree, asked to ride to the burial with me. As we slowly followed the hearse through Portland, I will never forget the people who came to stand on the side of the road to show their respect.

I don't really believe in coincidences, so there's an aspect to this story that you should know. Another of my students had died in 2004 while driving on Jernigan Road. I had told myself that I would never go down that road...in effect, not ever truly face what had happened there. Wouldn't you know it, Joey was buried in a cemetery on Jernigan Road. Only love for another Duck could have got me on that road.

Joey's mom wrote me the sweetest letter and gave me a picture, which is proudly displayed in my classroom, along with the picture I took that day in the parade and another picture of the Quarterback Club sign honoring Joey, who had played football. The songs I have added to my blog are patriotic, sure, because Memorial Day is not just about Joey, but Joey put a face to Memorial Day for me. Bon Jovi is on here because they were supposedly his favorite band, and this was played at his funeral. The last song is "My Faith Looks Up to Thee," an old hymn. The day before Joey's funeral, this song was the offertory at my church. The last two verses clenched my heart that day. Because I know that Heaven is my home, when one of my Ducks or anyone else I love dies, I always wonder if I did enough to share Jesus with them, if they will also be in Heaven. The lyrics of this song gave me such peace about Joey, particularly the last two verses:

"While life's dark maze I tread, and griefs around me spread, be thou my guide; bid darkness turn to day, wipe sorrow's tears away, nor let me ever stray from thee aside. When ends life's transient dream, when death's cold, sullen stream shall o'er me roll; blest Savior, then in love, fear and distrust remove; O bear me safe above, a ransomed soul!"

Joey was in the year-end issue of People, along with so many names of other soldiers who died in 2007 that it boggles my mind. He was only 29. He left behind a video that never fails to make me smile (although the first time after he died it was SO hard to watch it), three beautiful children, and many memories for his friends and family. I am so VERY PROUD to be Joey's Momma Duck, so proud that he followed his dream to do what he loved, and so honored that even in times where I have students who are mean, ungrateful, and rude, God still manages to send me enough encouragement through people like Joey, the hope to carry on. God Bless you, Joey, and God bless the United States of America.

The Mommas In My Life

2009-05-10T16:49:00.002-05:00

I am so very thankful for my biological mother, Lillie, who has been such a great mom, and I want to honor her on this day, along with other special women who have mothered me or other mothers who have been important in my life.

Lillie Groves - my Momma, who always tells me to "ignore ignorance," that every wound should be doctored with rubbing alcohol, and makes the best food ever. She loves her kids, grandkids, and great grandkids with particular fierceness.
Phyllis Lame - my Sissy...see the post before this one. :)
Leona Simmons - my grandmother...never really knew her but it is through her example that my mother has raised her own family.
Ruth Douglas and Gladys Street - the two best neighbors a little girl could have
MY GRANNY LEE...too many words to say here what I want to. She was mine, and I was hers. Enough said.
Patricia White - the best mother in love a girl could ask for
Susan Waters - my very best friend & Drake & Kinsey's godmother
Joyce Childers & Kay Teal - for giving me my very best friend.
The ladies of Union Chapel General Baptist Church, particularly Georgia Lane, Goldie Mathias, Denise Baker, Lisa Callis, Judy Brown, Christine Crafton, and Granny Thornton
My childhood friends' mommas - Gloria Payne, Bonnie Denton, Betty McDowell, Judy McGlothlin, and Betty Bradley
Those mommas who have loved my kids: Mary Ellen "Mother" Hinton, Judy Clemons, Janice Black, Lisa Callis (again), Susan Napier, April Walls, JoLee Collins, Allison Hester, Pam Nolen, Dawn White, Kay Groves, Beth Lame
Other stellar moms - Kathleen Lamport "Kaki," Lisa Nelson Grant, Jae Anne Hanes Hatzell, Pat Hanes, Juanita Cox, Sharon Bonds, Connie Gibbs, Amy Crews, Nancy Shelton, Patsy Carr, Stacy Andrews Lane, Carrie Mazanec Adkins, Susie Balentine, Virginia Lame, and Pam Summers.

There are many more influential women in my life that I am sure I have omitted, but whether they are related to me by blood or by the Holy Spirit or as in the case of my dear Granny Lee, a bond stronger than blood, they have helped me to become the mother and person I am. Thank you.

Sissy

2009-03-18T19:48:00.000-05:00

When my sister was sixteen, she got an unusual gift about a month after that - me! We don't share the stories that most sisters share because of our age difference. Phyllis is more like a second mom to me. She made Barbie clothes, doll houses, and Halloween costumes for me. She taught me to dance. She pretended to be part of a crime-fighting duo called Electro Girl and Dyna Woman with me as we cruised around 1970's Portland in her white Mustang T-top. I scoped all potential boyfriends, scaring one guy to death I am sure, by showing him the "training bra" my friend Angie had given me. (Why we thought we needed a training bra that young, I have no idea!) When there was finally a man who would pay attention to me, I figured I would let her get married...haha. Not really. I mean, the man she married did pay attention to me and even locked his keys in his car because he was so busy aggravating me. I wasn't thrilled about losing my sister. I got to be the flower girl in her wedding, but that meant Sissy moved to another house. I did not approve. Just when I was getting used to sharing my Sissy with Bobby, she got pregnant with Shane. There was some major jealousy from me, mixed with wonder at the beautiful blonde curled baby. Before long, Sissy made it up to me by having a little girl. I had requested one, and she obliged with the prettiest, pudgiest baby. I adored, Beth. I even told myself that I got to name her, but I don't really think I did. While Sissy raised her family and I grew up, we didn't share a great deal of memories. We were both wrapped up in living our lives. I always knew she loved me, and I am pretty sure she always knew I adored her. She was my Matron of Honor, even though she hates being in front of people and shook through the entire ceremony. My sister has been there for the birth of both of my babies. She has a gift for making people feel special and loved, especially children. She has a talent for anything "crafty," and I call her The Martha Stewart of New Deal...without the jail time, of course. :) Now we scrapbook together and she can bring her granddaughters to play with my little girl. We recently went to our mother's hometown for the funeral of our aunt, and even such a sad and solemn time as that was made fun because I got to spend it with my sister. I feel incredibly blessed to even have a sister and more so that I have such a special person as Phyllis for my sister, my second momma, and my dear friend. She is just about the best person I know.

I Corinthians 13: Christmas Version

2008-12-15T17:41:00.001-06:00

If I decorate my house perfectly with plaid bows,
strands of twinkling lights and shiny balls,
but do not show love to my family,
I'm just another decorator.

If I slave away in the kitchen, baking dozens of
Christmas cookies, preparing gourmet meals and
arranging a beautifully adorned table at mealtime,
but do not show love to my family,
I'm just another cook.

If I work at the soup kitchen, carol in the nursing
home and give all that I have to charity,
but do not show love to my family,
it profits me nothing.

If I trim the spruce with shimmering angels and
crocheted snowflakes, attend a myriad of holiday
parties and sing in the choir's cantata
but do not focus on Christ,
I have missed the point.

Love stops the cooking to hug the child.
L ove sets aside the decorating to kiss the husband.
Love is kind, though harried and tired.
Love doesn't envy another's home that has coordinated
Christmas China and table linens.
Love doesn't yell at the kids to get out of the way,
but is thankful they are there to be in the way.
Love doesn't give only to those who are able to give
in return but rejoices in giving to those who can't.
Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all
things, endures all things.
Love never fails.

Video games will break, pearl necklaces will be lost,
golf clubs will rust, but giving the gift of love will endure.

Merry Christmas and lots of love to you and yours!

The Blackboard

2008-11-23T21:33:00.004-06:00

The past two months of my life have been really difficult for many reasons. Today, I turned 38 years old and last night I gave myself, or rather accepted, the best present ever given - forgiveness. I forgave myself for all my many failures and shortcomings. I forgave the people in my life now who have hurt me. I forgave the people in my past who have hurt me. I wrote all of the things that I needed to forgive/let go of and then pictured them on a Blackboard. I then pictured sitting in the middle of my old portable classroom, and Jesus coming in and talking to me, and together, we erased all of those things together. The hardest ones were myself. I have been so hard on myself. Now the Blackboard is clean like this one, clear from my self-loathing, self-doubt, and fear. I know that Jesus has such plans for me, and now, I can actually face them with confidence. I'm going to the Blackboard as much as I need, and Jesus and I will erase anything that keeps me from living the life He gave me to use for His glory. :)

Good Enough

2008-10-19T14:17:00.003-05:00

This morning at church, Bro. Greg's sermon was on worry. He asked us to write or mentally note the one thing we worry about the most. I have made great strides in this area. I don't worry about death. I don't worry about taxes. I don't worry nearly as much as I used to worry. However, this is my worry. It has been with me throughout my life and has recently taken on a new dimension: I am worried that I am not good enough. Good enough for whom? Mostly myself, but at other times it has been my parents, my husband, my teachers, my children, my friends, my church, my sister, and the world in general. Although I can say that I am a recovering perfectionist, I still worry that I am not good enough. There have been recent events that have made me question my self-worth. Everywhere I turn, something negative is happening. I am giving my 100% to every area of my life, and every area is filled with the feeling that I am not good enough. I don't know how to overcome this feeling. When all you see is discouragement, all you hear are negatives, it's difficult to feel as though you are what you need to be. Perhaps my lesson is just this: Yeah, I am not feeling good enough. But I know that, like they say in Fireproof, you can't trust your feelings. I think what God wanted to say to me today was that no one is ever good enough; that's why He sent Jesus. Only in Him, can I be the wife, mother, friend, daughter, sister, teacher, etc. That I want to be.

NINE YEARS OLD

2008-09-07T14:51:00.007-05:00

My baby boy turned nine years old yesterday. Before I had Drake, I thought I knew a lot about myself, and it turns out that I knew nothing. The gift that Drake brought into my life, besides his being an absolute sweetheart, is that he forced me to discover my true self. I was so depressed after he was born. It could have been PPD, but mostly I think it was that I was so scared I wouldn't be "good enough" to be his mother. Nine years after his arrival, I see that although I am not the mother I thought I would be, not the mother that mine is, I am the perfect mother for Drake Braxton and Kinsey Catherine Elise White. Drake was worth every minute of the 65 hour labor it took to get him here. If it weren't for the hellacious time I had with his delivery, I might not have ever been serious about being more assertive. As Drake would quote the 8 Keys of Excellence from Quantum Learning to me..."Failure leads to success." My failure to speak up for myself allowed me to know what to do differently the second time around as a pregnant woman and one in delivery. If I hadn't been able to do that, with Kinsey's pregnancy and the health concerns and the emotional trauma (losing my student and my kitty), I don't think I would have made it. Right now, at nine years old, I love Drake for the person he has grown to be, for the way he loves his family, the way he is loyal to his friends, and protective of others. I love his
enthusiasm and friendliness, his wit and his smile. Thank you, Jesus, for Drake Braxton White.

6 Things Susan might not know?

2008-09-07T14:38:00.003-05:00

Susan "tagged" me in a challenge to share six things about myself... O-Kay, as if there is anything my best friend of twenty years doesn't know... anyway, let me see what I can pull out of my brain.

1. I have fallen over a trashcan, not once, not twice, but three times in my life. Once in first grade, once in fifth, and once while teaching. Good thing my name is not Grace.

2. My group of friends in high school dubbed ourselves "The Lite Crue" because we worked on the lights in our ninth grade play. My nickname was Tigger because that was John Taylor of Duran Duran's nickname.

3. I have had mono, not once, not twice, but three times...once in fourth grade, once in ninth grade (when I was in the hospital for a week and out of school for a month) and once in my junior year of high school.

4. I could read before I went to kindergarten. Phyllis used to make me read the newspaper for her friends to show off her baby sis.

5. My first real boyfriend was Barry Corbett, who gave me my first real kiss outside of what is now ACE Hardware.

6. I spent an inordinate amount of time as a pre-teen at the skating rink in Portland.

How did I do, BFF? It was a stretch to come up with anything you might not know!

It's Football Time in Tennessee!

2008-08-24T17:13:00.002-05:00

Friday night, I re-visited a past time...Westmoreland Football. Since the kids have come along, I haven't been to as many games as I really feel I should have been. I believe that when you marry someone, you love what they love, if you love them. I have to admit that many times over the past nine years when I have had to share Ralph with WHS football, I was a grouch. Part of that is the time he has to spend away from home, and part of it is when I didn't go to the games, it was harder to be involved and feel a part of what Ralph was doing. Now that both kids are old enough to go without climbing all over the place, we took in our first football game. Usually my mother-in-law goes as well, but she was taking care of my brother-in-law, so this was just me and the kids. It went better than I expected. Not only did I do a fantastic job of backing into a parking space (no small feat for me), but we also found a seat, and both kids behaved fairly well throughout the game. The game itself, between the WHS Eagles and DCA was a nail-biter. It felt great to be back in the stands yelling for the Eagles. As much as that, it was wonderful to see Ralph coaching. He really loves it, and it shows on his face when he's out there. I got a little emotional seeing him coach again, almost as if we had just started dating. I had to learn to love football when I fell in love with Ralph, and now sixteen years later, I have renewed that love by seeing him do what he truly enjoys doing. The Eagles were victorious, netting them their first win. Drake was awesome. The kid may never be a football player, but he's gonna be a football fan. Kinsey didn't even whine until the game was almost over, and it was way past her bed time. While we were looking for a seat, we ran into one of my former students and his girlfriend, and I am sure talking to them during the game helped my kids quite a bit. We also enjoyed the field shows of DCA (who did The Wizard of Oz music) and Westmoreland, who performed songs by Bon Jovi. Portland's band, replete with many Ducks, is performing "Come on Feel the Noize" by Quiet Riot. I suppose this is how you know for sure you are getting old - when the music you listened to in high school is being played by the band! Anyway, the Eagles will go to battle once again this Friday night against Macon County, and we will be there. (Even though part of me will still be cheering on my Portland Panthers in their season-opener!) Go Eagles!!! Go Panthers!!!

Decisions, Decisions

2008-08-16T18:55:00.002-05:00

I've had so many people on Facebook and Susan (the only person who reads my blog) wonder why I was concerned about Kinsey. Kinsey, as you know from my last post is now four. We have been supremely blessed to have the best babysitter in the world for Kinsey ever since I had to go back to work when she was four months old. The Friday of Registration Day at school our Ma Marilyn had an emergency appendectomy and has been recuperating at home. As a result, Kinsey spent last week either with my parents or my mother-in-law. Thank God we had someone with whom she could stay while Ma Marilyn was sick. However, this week served to let us know that Kinsey really, really needs some kids to play with on a regular basis. After a week of being spoiled to death by grandparents, she was very difficult to live with for me and Drake. (Ralph's in football now, so he didn't see as much of it as we did.) This is a huge decision for us about where Kinsey should spend her time. We all love Ma Marilyn, and she is a great Christian woman whom I know adores Kinsey. As I said, though, Kinsey is always wanting someone to play with her. I visited a pre-school and I think she is going to go there three days a week. We didn't make this decision lightly. I have prayed about it all week, and today Ralph and I got a chance to really talk. Sometimes...okay, most of the time during football season, I feel as though the weight of all our family decisions rests with me. Ralph and I made our decision and went to talk to Ma Marilyn, who agreed that she would still keep Kinsey a couple of days a week. I know everyone thought she was sick. She is, as my mom would say, "fine as frog hair." I appreciate all of the prayers from Susan and my Ducks. I will keep you all posted on how it is going.

Happy Birthday Kinsey

2008-07-16T21:04:00.004-05:00

Four years ago tonight, I was lying in Baptist Hospital trying desperately to go to sleep because I knew the next day would be very draining. Of course, those pesky contractions made it impossible to rest. It seems surreal that I am so far removed from a night not so long ago. Sometimes I forget to be truly thankful for all of the things God showed me with Kinsey's conception and birth. We had tried for three years to get pregnant. I had prayed, prayed, prayed. One day I was in Louisville and as is often my habit, I was listening to Christian contemporary music and talking to God. I remember telling Him that I would be okay with whatever His will was; I just wanted to know if it would happen sometime, anytime. I looked up and saw a huge billboard for the Brennan House. At this time, I was certain that if I did have a second child that it would undoubtedly be a boy, and Brennan was the name I knew I wanted to use. I discovered a song, "Anything is Possible" by Anointed that became my theme. I looked for the song to add it to this site, but I didn't find it. Instead, these are songs that make me think of Kinsey. I am convinced that another thing that happened that maybe not caused me to get pregnant, but was definitely important was that I was Girls' Head Agape on Chrysalis 20. I had always said I knew God would call me to be Head Agape because it was the role on the weekend I least wanted to do. :) You would think that after being a Lay Director, Head Agape is a breeze, but this is not so...just one of those things you learn after serving on several weekends. I was obedient to what God called me to do and served as Girls' Head Agape. God blessed me in many ways on that weekend and allowed me to make it through with a migraine, even. A month and a half later, I was pregnant. There are so many more GOD things that happened with my pregnancy, but I will stop just with this- getting pregnant at GOD'S TIME. There's a verse that says God will give you the desires of your heart, and in this case, God blessed me even more abundantly than I could have imagined. I didn't care what sex the baby was. I was/am not one of those women who have to have a daughter. I wanted a healthy baby. I really wanted a daughter, and God knew that. Do I think my being obedient was a reward? Not necessarily. I didn't work that weekend expecting to get something from God. I just knew it was what I was supposed to do. Sometimes I do that, sometimes I don't. I suppose all I am saying now is that I need to remember every year on Kinsey's birthday the wonderful gift God gave me in her. I know some people think I am strange when I say that my Emmaus weekend were the best days of my life, even above having my kids, but if it hadn't been for all God had shown me on those weekends where He drew me aside, I KNOW I wouldn't have been given the awesome responsibility of being someone's mother. It's a daunting task even with God with you every step of the way. I know I couldn't have done/can't do it alone. So tonight, I am thankful for Kinsey Catherine Elise White...who entered my life right on God's schedule. I will probably have to post more about this because the blessings are overflowing on this topic. God has great things in store for my about to be four year old.

Random Thoughts about My BFF

2008-07-14T15:53:00.003-05:00

Almost twenty years ago, my college roommate brought her friend back to our extremely hot, un-air conditioned dorm room. They had met in math class, those quick encounters with people we have all of the time. This one, however, would change my life forever. I know I didn't realize it upon that first meeting how important this person would be in my life, but I know that she is Heaven-sent, back then and every day since then. There are many things I love about my BFF. I love how we can say anything or nothing to each other. I love the companionable silence we can share without any awkwardness between us. I love how paranoid we both are, worrying that something is wrong with the other. I love that she felt comfortable enough to have me there when she gave birth. I love that she is the kind of person who looks for the best in others, even when she has to look really hard. I love the way we can go into hysterical laughter over the tiniest of things. I love the memories of the past nineteen years of funny stories that we can share, that only we know the true story behind. I love the way we both apologize for parking far away from a store's entrance or not pulling out in traffic quickly. I love how she always takes my side, even when I know I am wrong. I love that we were able to share our last pregnancy together. I love how I can trust her implicitly with any single thing. I love that she loves Christ and wants to grow closer in her relationship with Him. I love that she is the kind of person who would take care of her dying mother despite many obstacles and a real lack of help. Most of all, I love the utter comfort her friendship is to me - a warm blanket of unconditional love, faith in my abilities, and motivation to give equally in a friendship. Reading back over this, I don't think I have captured really what my BFF means to me, but then again, I don't know that there are words sufficient to capture that. I know I am blessed that I can have blessings that can't even be described.

Dance with my Father

2008-06-22T14:19:00.000-05:00

I finally got to dance with my Daddy. He had never danced before, and I think he did really well. He didn't much want to dance, but I made him. :) He looks as though he is having a good time, though, doesn't he?

Nellie Olson Hair

2008-06-22T14:16:00.000-05:00

Flower Girl

2008-06-22T14:15:00.001-05:00

Look at this beautiful flower girl! Kudos to Michelle England for doing such a great job with Kinsey's hair.

Tiffany's Wedding Day

2008-06-22T14:12:00.000-05:00

It was a wonderful day for the Groves family yesterday. My youngest niece got married in a beautiful ceremony at Cedars of Lebanon. My daughter was the flower girl. Here she is with Tiffany and two of my great nieces, Madison & Mallory. I can hardly believe Tiffany is married. I have always been able to feel more like an aunt to her, I think mainly because I was old enough when she was born not to be jealous of not being the baby anymore. I can remember sitting in my brother's house holding her and rocking her and crying because I was overwhelmed with love for her. Tiffany was so breathtakingly beautiful yesterday. The vows that she & her husband J.J. wrote for each other were so precious. I bawled during the entire ceremony. I am so proud of my niece and so grateful that her wedding day went so well. More wedding pics to follow...

Happy Father's Day

2008-06-15T19:58:00.004-05:00

On this day, I am thankful for three very special men. First of all, I am thankful for the man who started it all - my Daddy. I wrote a lot about him just a few weeks ago. I am also thankful for the best father-in-love a girl could have. Although this is another Father's Day that we will not spend together, I hold him close in my heart and eagerly anticipate being with him again in Heaven. He is half the reason behind a man I love with all my heart - Ralph, my husband. When I met Ralph, I had given up on finding true love (ah, I was so jaded at 19 LOL). He was the answer to all my prayers back then. I didn't think I could love him any more than I did the day I married him 15 years ago. Then I saw him become Daddy to my two children and realized that I was indeed blessed. He is such a great father, and I am so thankful not only for what he means to me but also what he is to my sweet babies. I am proud of the man he is and grateful to be his wife. Happy Father's Day to all!!

Kara

2008-05-22T20:29:00.000-05:00

This is my teacher aide, Kara. She was a God-send this semester. She was in my class last semester and just happened to mention that she wanted somewhere else to go for teacher's aide. On the spur of the moment, I asked her to be in my first period this spring. She is a sweet girl and one of the few I will really miss.

Things I Love About My Daddy

2008-04-27T15:52:00.000-05:00

Every time I hear the term "Daddy's Girl," I think of a father and a daughter, dancing at her wedding or perhaps enjoying a hobby together or a long talk. There was no dancing at my wedding unfortunately, but even if there had been, my daddy would not have danced with me. I never call his house to talk to him; if I have something to tell him, Mom tells him. It's not that we have a bad relationship; it's just that Daddy finds it difficult to express his true feelings about things. Growing up, Daddy was made to feel as though he could never be good enough. He was treated unfairly and at times, cruelly. He doesn't hug easily and the words I love you don't often fall from his lips. He's not that image of a Daddy dancing at the wedding, but here are just a few of the things I love, love, love about my Daddy.
1. I think he is very handsome and doesn't look his age (78 as of yesterday)
2. He has been faithful to my mother for fifty-seven years.
3. He knows how to fix nearly anything.
4. He adores my kids.
5. He overcame his frugality for my wedding, picking up the tab for everything, even wedding clothes for our family and my best friend.
6. He smells like Old Spice.
7. He has a cute little bald head, with a trimming of gray hair around it. In the 70's, he used to do a comb-over, trying to cover the bald spot...LOL
8. He is half responsible for two of the best people on the planet - my sister & brother.
9. He has worked hard his whole life.
10. He would do anything for his family.
11. He loves his baby brothers. According to my late Uncle Robert, my daddy is the reason Uncle Robert was so loving and king. He said, "Your Daddy raised me."
12. He loves Mickey Mouse.
13. He kept telling the doctor to hurry up when Kinsey was being born.
14. He surprises me continually.
15. He cried when I cried after my father-in-law died. One of the few times I have seen him cry.
16. He worries about things...I will never forget when my godson was a baby, he was afraid he was starving because he was little.
17. He didn't get mad when I backed over another car while driving his car
18. He can be very quiet, and then all of a sudden, give his unvarnished opinion of the truth
19. He paid for me to go to school.
20. He always made me feel protected and loved...even though he hardly ever says he loves me, he shows me.
21. Did I mention that he has awesome taste in women and married the absolute best one for him?

There are so many more things I could say about my Daddy. I know that he is not perfect by any means, and there are things about him I used to wish I could change. I don't wish that any more. I feel grateful to have my Daddy, to know that, at the end of the day, he always did his best. I am proud of the man he is and the way he rose above so many hurtful things in his past. I am glad that he has/had my Uncle Robert & Uncle Don to show him how to love. Oh, and the best thing is, I will always be his baby.

Three Year Olds & Soccer

2008-04-22T20:00:00.000-05:00

If you have never witnessed three - four years olds playing soccer, you are in for a treat. If you're a stickler for rules, you should stay home because they are still learning the sport, but even the grouchiest person would have to at least grin at a bunch of little kids trying to play soccer. Sometimes we run in the right direction, sometimes not. Sometimes we lie down in the field and pick grass. Sometimes we run off the field wanting "Radiator." Kinsey calls Gatorade "Radiator." How cute is that?? Now that I have talked about how cute soccer is for these little ones, allow me to share the sad fact that the pictures I am sharing on this blog, taken by my football coach husband, are a MILLION times better than the ones for which we paid $20.00. I hate to sound like my Daddy, but Lord, how hard is it to realize that you have done nearly every picture wrong for at least two different teams...and probably more?? Drake's were similarly awful, and I emailed the company, and they took remakes on Monday. We hadn't received Kinsey's until tonight because her coach kept forgetting them. So, should I email the company again or just say to heck with it? Yeah, I am gonna say to heck with it. Obviously customer service is not their strong suit, and we will not be purchasing any more pictures with them. Between our family and poor Avery having to have his soccer picture made with a pink ball last year, they are batting .000. On a positive note, isn't my little girl adorable, even in flourescent yellow? :)

Jehovah Jireh

2008-04-21T21:10:00.000-05:00

...means "my provider," and that is certainly the case for the past weeks when I have been blessed to have my student teacher, Carla. I've never had a student teacher before, and my only experience was when I was a student teacher, an idealistic 22-year old. I am not sure what I expected from having a student teacher. My only thought when it was me was, "I want to have one someday," just because I was literally handed over a great deal. Of course, you know conscientious me couldn't do that, and even if I could, I wouldn't have done it to Carla. She has been so awesome. God knows just what I need just when I need it. This semester has been the worst semester I have had in a while, maybe forever. In February, I was so disheartened. Carla joined us at just the right time. Not only did she do a wonderful job teaching (and bless her heart, I gave her Macbeth to teach!), but she also has become a good friend. Obviously I was glad to have a break from my students. Honestly, I needed a break from my students. However, that's not even the best part about Carla being with us. Since all the drama of several years ago (which I won't go into now), I have not felt as though I had a real friend at work. Granted, Carla is leaving next week, but it has been so very nice to have someone to talk to who is on the same page as I am. Sometimes I feel as though I am in my own book, I feel so out of place with my colleagues. Another thing that is neat about Carla is that she is my sister in Christ and also attends FBC Portland. I hope that we are able to stay friends, and maybe, just maybe it will be in God's will for us to teach together next year. If not, I pray that she gets a job close to home. Just like getting Mr. Gideon for my new boss, having Carla as my student teacher was a "window - God has given me a window, and I can finally see the light!"

Being Momma Duck

2008-02-27T19:10:00.000-06:00

When I decided on a career path, I am not sure that I was listening intently for God's voice. Thankfully, He knows just what I need, just when I need it. Looking back after fifteen years of teaching, I see many wonderful provisions God made for me, many life lessons, and some painful "pruning" that He knew would make me a better person. First of all, I am thankful that the first group of students I ever stepped in front of, White House High School Class of 2005, was as good as it was. I am getting my own student teacher in a few weeks, and thinking back to that time makes me very grateful that I had some really awesome kids to start out with. I thought of one of them the other day after a particularly bad day. His name was Geoff and he wrote in the yearbook they gave me something to the effect of, "you shouldn't base your life on a bunch of teenagers." It wasn't meant as a "get out of teaching," but as a warning about getting too close, caring too much. Then tonight, I scanned over to Ashley's page and saw and familiar name, followed the link and I believe, found another of my very favorite students from WHHS. The fact that I remember names from and stories from every year I have taught is not a testament to my memory but to that same facet of myself that cares too much, that puts myself out there, vulnerable to being hurt. Without that vulnerability, I would never have allowed my students their own mascot, THE DUCKS, or became MOMMA DUCK. I am grateful for all of my students, and these few come to mind immediately: (please forgive any omissions because all of them (even the few who have been more challenging to love) are still my ducks (even my third period class now) :)

1. Cathy Brake Reynolds, Julie Callis Hicks, Molly Pirtle, Trey Perry, Courtney Perry, Brittney Perry, Ty Black, Ashley Parrish, Jennifer Everette Hand, Russel McGlothlin, Keri and Tom Latimer, Deidre Hall, Dana Thompson, Summer Bowman Tate, Heather Spillman, Cara Stroud West, Susan Whittaker, Chasity Lassiter Gregory, Tricia Craig, Ashley Mathias Berry, Brian Brown, Amber Williams Everette - my butterfly ducks - all sponsored to a Chrysalis weekend. What a blessing!!
2. Sarah McGlothlin, Sara Laneville, Michael Laneville, Andy Ballman "The Cheese Grater," Heather and Gregg Dillard, Jay Hill, Brandon West, Chris Rippy, Tim Bailey, Josh Green, my entire fourth period class from the class of 2006, Tyree Scharklet, Kiara Bland, Amber Bright, Amber Deckard, Sheryl Groves Escue, Jon Groves, my entire sixth period class from the Class of 1996, my entire second period class from the class of 2004, Cory Cook, Chelsea Youngblood, Brian, Barry, & Matt Yoeckel, Matt Curtis, Matt Warren, Jeff "Sparky" Sparks, Jason, Meredith, & Jaska Brown, Chuck Siniff, Logan Dickens, Spanky McCloud, Jarrod "Goo" Riley, Brant & Lindsay Corlew, Jaska "Cartman" Greer, Sarah Martin, Lyndsey & Brittney Sloan, Samantha & Brittani Clinard Ashley Crowder, Megan Lee, Megan & Katie Summers,Kara Raines, Drew & Drake Thompson,Jayne Morton, my honors class from 2006 pictured above - okay, this could take forever...too many names to mention :)
3. Kayla Searcy, Kami Kirby, Kelly Henson, Carly Carpenter Hendershot - kids who would gladly kick tail on my behalf. :)
4. Austin White, Tyler White, Stephanie Civils Lame, Jason "Phat Rabbit" Hobdy - my family ducks
4. Tabitha Hyten, Joey Link, Dylan Viator, Curt Forbes, Dewayne Barber, Kane Knight, and David McGee - my angel ducks - losing them has been the worst part of teaching, especially David, Joey, & Tabitha

The love that I have for all of these people (and the ones I can't take enough time to name) would have easily been depleted if it had come from only me. It's only because of Christ that I can be Momma Duck.

Seven Interesting Things about Meredith

2008-02-14T19:41:00.000-06:00

1. My nickname is BooBoo. My nephew Shane couldn't say Meredith when he was little, so he started calling me BooBoo.

2. I can quote verbatim from many, many movies.
3. I have been in labor for approximately 90 hours in my life

4. I embarrassed my sister when I was little by pulling a tampon out of her purse in the middle of church and loudly asking, "WHAT'S THIS??"
5. I had braces when I was a teenager, although you can't tell it now
6. I lived at the Drury Inn in Evansville, Indiana for three weeks one summer

7. I still have my teddy bear that my daddy got me in 1976 in Chattanooga

Snow Memories

2008-01-31T17:52:00.001-06:00

Today we had a "snow day." Granted, early this morning and again tonight, it is sleeting, but it is not snowing. You can blame global warming, Al Gore (that's for you, Susan), or just bum luck, but where are the snows of my childhood? I would even settle for the snows of ten years ago. Of course, any teacher loves snow. We see it as our break from Heaven, as if God is saying, "I know, I know, you need a day to rest...here." :) Although I am not complaining about having a snow day, it would have been nice to see snow. Snow has many wonderful memories for me. I remember when we lived on Glendale Drive and Phyllis would put me on the sled and ride me up and down the road. I remember that my kindergarten year, we had so much snow that we had to go to school on Saturdays to make up the time. I remember making snow angels in Mrs. Street's yard on Gibson Street. In my teenage years, snow frustrated me if it kept me from socializing. We were home from school the day the Space Shuttle Challenger exploded. When I was student teaching, I almost got stuck in White House while taking another student teacher home. Mustangs have no traction. :) The first year that Ralph & I were married, it snowed and we were out of school for a week. We played some silly card game that I can't even remember the name of now. There were several snows on Hilton Lane, each one complete with a driveway clearing from the best neighbors in the world, Buddie Lamport. The scariest snow was the day Drake and I started up the Ridge to Castalian Springs. I happened to see my colleague Karen Chatham on the side of the road. She was scared to death, so I hollered for her to get in my car. We drove, we prayed, and eventually we turned around and headed to my brother in law's house so he could take us home in his Expedition.

More than nearly anything, snow reminds me of my wonderful father-in-love, Bobby Joe. Bobby could drive in any kind of weather, so he would pick me up at school when it would get bad and see me safely home. One year on the day after Christmas, Ralph, his parents, and I headed to Gatlinburg, and it was snowing on the Ridge. I should have been scared to death, but I knew Bobby Joe would take care of us, and he did. The day that Bobby flew home to Heaven, it was blowing snow. The night after we buried his body it began to snow in huge flakes and we were out of school for nearly a week. Ralph & I both would have had to go back to work that next day, so a snow day really was a God Thing. Even more than it usually is...

Crunch: Fat Burning Pilates

2008-01-28T18:43:00.001-06:00

I swore by this in the summer - Fat Burning Pilates. The CRUNCH studio has all kinds of workouts. I recently picked up Bikini Body. I wasn't aware that the instructor would look and act like Malibu Barbie. Yeah, that's the image my overweight self needs to see. So, I am headed back to Fat Burning Pilates. Don't get me wrong; the instructor for it is really in shape, she's not not so freakin' perky about it. Drake said he wanted to work out with me, so we headed in to do the workout. Working out with an eight year old should be easy, but bless his heart, he is as coordinated (or not) as his mommy. I don't know...I am sure it is laziness, but after I have worked all day, it's a real chore to change into workout clothes, workout, and do the million other things I have to do from the time I get home (roughly 5) until I collapse into bed at 10. Some early risers might encourage me to do my workout in the morning. That would be a good idea if I could be coordinated enough at 5:30 AM to actually make my body move the way it needs to...and let's face it, I am not going to forsake SLEEP for this exercise thing. So, what to do? Hmmm...I suppose I will have to schedule time on Monday, Friday, & Saturday and do it then. Those are the days that my hubby is home from work early. I know it would be better to space it out, but what's really important here? My physical health or the Westmoreland Eagles football program? Exactly.

Okay...so I've been a little busy...

2008-01-18T17:02:00.001-06:00

Hello again, it's me, Margaret...I mean, Meredith. (Remember that old Judy Blume book?) Anyway, my update is short. My computer was unbearably slow, so we had to reinstall, and I still don't have everything back on the computer. I started another semester with my lovely seniors, started teaching another online class, and have also been doing my usual - laundry. So there, Susan, as if you didn't know all that anyway! :)
ps. I use Sure deodorant - never heard anything about aluminum before but I really don't need anything else to worry about!!!

My Handsome Nephews

2007-12-25T19:10:00.000-06:00

While I am showing off my family, you have to see my handsome nephews! Tyler and Austin have been a part of my life since I started dating their uncle in 1990. Seeing them grow up has been such a pleasure, especially since both of them got to be Ducks. Now I get to be Meri and Momma Duck to them. :)

Kayley!!

2007-12-25T19:02:00.000-06:00

I had to show off my newest little great niece!!! Isn't she adorable????

White Waters Christmas

2007-12-25T19:00:00.000-06:00

We have been blessed over the years to share a tradition with my best friend and her family. This year we came back to our original plan - breakfast on Christmas Eve morning - with a few new additions since the last time we did breakfast, namely, Drake, Kinsey, Avery, & Aidan!! Ralph whipped up chocolate chip pancakes, the kids ran around, Drake & Avery tried to lock the little ones out of Drake's room, we opened presents, talked, relaxed and generally enjoyed the time together. I got Susan this Willow Tree figure "Two Alike" - sums us up pretty well, I think. Susan & her family got Kinsey an Easy Bake Oven, and Avery got five Magic Tree House Books from us. I have a READER!!!! Look at his little face; he was so excited. I am gonna buy that boy a book every time I am in a bookstore. :) There were many gifts & many laughs.

The best thing....other than just being with the Waters', is that we can just be who we are. There's no rush to make sure the house is clean or any of that other stuff you feel as though you need to do when people visit your home. It was the relaxing beginning to Christmas Eve I needed.

How Could I Be Grinchy??

2007-12-07T19:34:00.000-06:00

Look at these sweet faces...once I saw the pictures Beth took, I realized that quite a few of them were really good. I have so much for which to be thankful, even in stressful moments...moments that seem to last for days. :)

God is so good. All the time. God is good.

Meredith is so tired. All the time. Meredith is tired. G

Guess the title of my blog makes more sense now; if it weren't for God's power, I wouldn't have made it through this week with my sanity intact. Job stress, family stress, and exhaustion have combined to try to wear me down...it is only through HIS power that my weakness has not flattened me.

Now to bed for rest. Then tomorrow I grade work on my MI class, Senior Memory Books, (THEY GET WORSE EVERY YEAR. Work ethic has been replaced with complete apathy in most teenagers. Beware.)

I get to see my awesome best friend on Sunday...got a cool Christmas present for her tonight. :)

AND - Kate Elizabeth Rippy was born this week!! God really is good all of the time. He really showed off with the Rippy family!
Meredith

The Grinch

2007-12-04T19:43:00.000-06:00

What is it about getting my children's pictures taken that makes me want to poke out my eyes and run screaming out the door? I am decidedly Grinch-like this Christmas so far. We went Christmas shopping yesterday with our new and improved "budget" and still spent too much money. I was stressed the entire time because of course, all the gifts that weren't for our kids were for my family mostly. I have so much to do at both of my jobs that it boggles what is left of my mind. I have to get it done tonight because I have choir practice tomorrow night. Then tonight, my friend, Beth, comes to my house to get pictures of the kids for our Christmas cards. Have there ever been two more uncooperative children?? Drake cannot, will not keep his head down (he looks like a turkey) and his eyes open. He swinches his eyes. Kinsey wouldn't smile unless Bubby was making a silly face. We got lots of shots of one of them being good, but it was an ordeal. I know I did not cause this much trouble in taking a darn picture when I was little. Geez. I am being a GROUCH and a GRUMP and a GRINCH.
I just needed to admit somewhere and get it out of my system...I hope. Off I go to work some more...work, work, work. I NEED A BREAK!

Sanity Savers from this week

2007-11-27T21:31:00.000-06:00

1. My husband...washed the dishes!!!
2. A good long phone call from my best friend
3. My parents picking up my girl and saving me another long trip
4. Students who do what they are supposed to do
5. Drake's teacher being well & back at work
6. My teacher aide
7. An awesome song nearly all the time...My favorite right now is Mercy Me's new one - I think it's called "God with us, Emmanuel." God Bless 88.1 WAY-FM!
8. Kisses from Kinsey
9. Getting out of the house every morning without having a nervous breakdown
10. Sleep - it's good stuff - God really knew what He was doing when he said, "rest."

2007-11-25T20:37:00.000-06:00

“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal … Lock it up safe in the coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket … it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable … The only place outside Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell.” - C.S. Lewis

A Stickerless Wemmick

2007-11-22T19:36:00.000-06:00

Of course you know as hard as I tried to put the "slam" I read yesterday out of my head, it kept popping up. This morning when I woke up, I prayed that God would give me peace because as the narration for our Christmas musical says, "Peace is not absence of conflict but the presence of God." God brought to mind the children's book You are Special by Max Lucado. In it, the main character is Puchinello, a "wemmick" who got "dots" from all kinds of people. Dots are the bad things people say or think about you. Poor Puchinello was covered in dots no matter how hard he tried. One day he met a stickerless wemmick (the wemmicks lived in a village and were all made by the Craftsman (God). This stickerless wemmick didn't let the dots or the stars (praise from others) stick to her. She said that the more time she spent with the Craftsman, the less she cared about their stickers. Although I appreciate Chelsea's gift of encouragement, it's a star...and I shouldn't focus on it anymore than I should focus on the the dot of that post. Simply put, God made me and God thinks I am special. End of story.

Unorganized & Unpredictable

2007-11-21T12:07:00.000-06:00

They say "ignorance is bliss." Just a few minutes ago, I was talking to a friend on the phone. I had looked up something on the internet for her, and decided to check this site called Rate My Teachers. Just yesterday I had this message posted on my profile: She annoyed me. Her class was easy; however unorganized and unpredictable. She does try new methods of teaching, but she misses a lot of school.
I am sure I annoy a lot of people; I am okay with that statement. My class is easy, but obviously not enough since 18 people are failing. It's the unorganized & unpredictable. If anyone had any idea of how much time I spend preparing for teaching...plus, I am one of the most organized people I know. Even unpredictable I can handle; I don't mind keeping people guessing since it cultivates their interest. I am dumbfounded over the misses a lot of school - let's see, I've been fighting migraines, one of my former students died, and my daughter had to get glasses, my son got sick unexpectedly at school one day....I guess I have missed a lot this term, but it's not as though I am just "skipping." I've still missed less school than most of my students.
My husband just came in here to talk to me and made a very important point; there will always be a critic in anything you do. He told me I have too many students, present and past, who have gone out of their way to let me know I have made a difference in their lives. One such young lady wrote me the sweetest letter the other day; here's what it said, in part: "I wanted to start off by saying how amazing you are. No matter what comes your way, you always find the best in it. You have a heart that most teachers do not have and that is what makes you who you are...you have truly been a blessing to me this semester. You are a great Godly lady who loves the Lord and cares so much for your family. I have needed someone like you for a teacher...Don't let anyone tell you any different on how you are. Stay strong with God and He will provide you with a miraculous reward when it is all finished."

So what's more important - an anonymous critique, parts of which I know are inaccurate or a heartfelt letter of thanks/a beautiful bouquet of flowers from a student who has no agenda. (She has like a 99 in my class, so she's not kissing up). My best friend sent me a quote about how when you love you are vulnerable, so I guess this is just another part of that. My Abba God knows all about me - my strengths and weaknesses - and HE is the only one I have to please. I am just thankful he sent Chelsea to remind me that I am doing HIS WORK. The devil would like nothing more than for those few sentences to send me into a funk and destroy my ministry to my students, but I will not succumb to the negativity. I will also delete the website and not look at it again; the opinion of God and Godly people is all I should consider.

2007-11-19T21:55:00.000-06:00

Here's a picture of three of the loves of my life...no, not that trio in the background! :)

Community Thanksgiving

2007-11-19T21:04:00.000-06:00

Tonight my church hosted the community Thanksgiving service. It was wonderful. The best part about the night was all of us from different "denominations" coming together to worship God. Having this assortment of Christians made me really miss my Chrysalis weekends and the friends I have made through them. This Thanksgiving has really hit home with me for some reason. For one, Thanksgiving always reminds me of my Aunt Bert and Uncle Robert. Although I am sad that I will not ever share another Thanksgiving with Uncle Robert, I am still so very grateful that they were such a huge part of my life. My maternal grandparents died when I was very young, and I was never close to them; my father's mother and her husband hardly acknowledged me at all, so family was just my parents, their kids, and Aunt Bert & Uncle Robert. God has blessed me through so many people who have filled the gap and loved me despite the lack of blood ties or geographical proximity. Here is my Thanksgiving list:
I am thankful
1. above all, to God, for every way He has supplied my needs and fulfilled His plans for my life, especially for His work on me through the Walk to Emmaus
2. my wonderful parents, who took me to church and provided a stable home for me
3. my sister and brother, who were another set of parents; being surrounded by them is a kind of Heaven
4. my precious husband, the answered prayer for a lifetime of love and laughter
5. my darling son, who not only taught me how to be a mom but also how to be my true self
6. my beautiful daughter, who showed me that God blesses more than I can even imagine
7. my sister of the soul, who "gets" me - no explanations necessary
8. My Granny Lee - the grandmother of my heart. Blood does not tie us, but love will never separate us.
9. My father-in-law, who made me "his girl" and my mother-in-law who is never critical or intrusive and loves my children so much
10. My many nieces and nephews; seeing them grow up has been a joy
11. My two gorgeous godsons, who showed me how much I could love a child who wasn't mine; and their daddy, my brother of the soul. "Chickamawchickamawmaw"
12. My childhood friends - Lanna, Heather, Chanda, Sherri, Julie, Gina, and especially Robin
13. All the new babies in my life!! (Jax, Cayden, Megan, Nate, Aiden)
14. My lunch group who likes me even though I don't eat hummus
15. My awesome college roommate, who showed me that a relationship with God was possible and necessary
16. Pat, who sponsored me on the Walk to Emmaus and who gave birth to one of the best adopted baby sisters anyone could have - my Piglet!
17. The pregnant friends in my life - Angie, April, Piglet
18. All of my Ducks, PHS Classes of 1996-2008
19. My butterflies, especially Cathy, Julie, Ashley, and BG Chrysalis #11
20. My partners in Chrysalis #11 - Mitch, Amy, Sharon, Connie, Jae, Emily, Amanda
21. My new boss - "God has given me a window!!"
22. My church family at FBC Portland - especially Elizabeth & Ray, Sammy & Patsy, & Joanne
23. Performance Learning Systems: Brenda, Steve, Betsy, and Sue
24. Jenny - the true Power Whoosh Princess
25. my kitty Samantha (rest in peace, sweet kitty)
26. Baptist Hospital!!
27. Carly & Kayla
28. Books!!!!
29. Steve & Phillip
30. Chocolate
31. Matt, the perfect high school boyfriend
32. Stacy & Summer, my first attempts at being a Mother Duck
33. Kay & Bobby

I am sure there are even more....but I am tired and going to go to bed. :)

Gratitude Dinner

2007-11-18T19:51:00.000-06:00

Today was filled with food....we went to my home church to please my mother; then she came to my church tonight to please my children. Going back to a place which was so much of my childhood was bittersweet. So much had changed, but so many things were still the same. One of the songs we sang was, "Thank You Lord for Your Blessings on Me." When I was growing up, this one couple at church used to sing this song all of the time. The wife is now in Heaven. Being the sentimental person I am, I couldn't help but cry. So many ladies who were essential to building a foundation of Christ in my life still go to that church - my former Sunday school teachers, my Guild leader,etc. I am very thankful for the time they devoted to the Lord through ministry with children. I am thankful that they still treat me with love and acceptance every time I visit.

On that same note, I am thankful for the people at my church who minister to children. Our children's choirs sang after the Gratitude Dinner, our first at FBC Portland. Kinsey did the motions, but she didn't sing. Drake sang loudly and dramatically. I always thought when I was little that FBC was the church for "snobby" people, even though I had two close friends who attended there. Now I can't imagine being anywhere else. I am sure there are still those who are not there for the right reason, as there is in any church, but I feel the spirit of God so clearly with these people. From my Sunday school teacher and his wife to my choir director and his wife, these people truly love God. I feel immense gratitude to be a part of this family of faith. I also feel the same gratitude that, even though my home church is not where God would have me serve, it played an integral role in my development as a Christian.

I am blogging!

2007-11-14T18:00:00.000-06:00

Amazingly enough, I had time tonight to add my blog. What exactly is a blog? I suppose I will figure it out as I go along.