Eli

Last Tuesday was a fantastic day! I got to leave work at noon because I had a very important meeting with very important people - Melanie and Eli came to Iowa City! We met at Lianna's and then went to Wilson's Orchard. It was a beautiful day, but I didn't spend much time looking at the beautiful scenery because I could not take my eyes off of Eli. Check out the pics - it's just me babbling at Eli and trying to get him to smile again and again. He smiles so easy but I just couldn't get enough of it. Isn't he so handsome? Mel calls him muscular...of COURSE it's muscles! We also drove down a gorgeous country road and enjoyed the sights downtown Iowa City. No, there are no pictures of any of that - just me oooing and ahhing over my Eli and enjoying the time with my beautiful daughter. This is the stuff that life's about.

Blogging class

Our assignment is to create a blog. I already have this one so thought I would just add a post. I have only used blogging for my personal journal, shared only with my family. I am looking forward to using blogs in education. My son-in-law has a great blog that is getting hits from all over the world called Think, Thank, Thunk. He is a former research scientist turned educator, teaches calculus and physics at Solon, and is an evangelist for standards based grading.

tilling and waiting

With Shawn's and Lianna's help, I was able to get a nice sized portion of my lawn tilled up to get ready for gardening. My muscles are sore (in a good way) from trying to manage the big beast of a tiller. You are probably wondering, and the answer is "yes" - it has names. The engine's name is Viper, the machine's name is Earthquake, and we just call it Rick - short for Richter. So now that all the sod and mulch and various weeds are "ground" up, it's time to just work it with a hoe and rake and wait. Planting season is SO soon, and then there will be new growth and then a harvest. My soul is in the same place. My heart feels tilled, like something chopped through everything solid, like maybe an earthquake ripped through my soul. But I know it is just tilling season, and the Master Gardener will hoe and rake and will soon plant new seeds and my soul will be green and growing again. I believe that. But right now, I am still sore, physically and spiritually.

Believe in prayer or believe in God

I spent alot of time and energy on my yard this past weekend. I love participating in God's work of nature - cleaning up the winter damage, preparing the ground for new growth, and nurturing what is already growing. I thinned out the peonies and transplanted them to try and make a hedge. I mowed and pruned, dug around the fence Shawn just repaired for me and planted Hollyhocks along it. I did some work in the garden that should have been done last fall. Then my final job was spraying a bit of Roundup on some dandelions and on the Creeping Charlie invading the stone circle around my favorite tree - the hardwood red maple. I planted it after it sat a year in its pot looking dead and two-dimensional and now it is full, round, and beautiful. The tree's resurrection story makes me love it more. Anyway, after this final chore, I then went and showered, had a cup of tea, and settled in for a good night's sleep. At 1:13 AM my eyes slammed open and I remembered my last chore and thought, "Oh God, I might have killed my tree!!" I sat straight up in bed and said, "Please, Dear God, don't let my tree die! I am so sorry!" Since I believe in the power of prayer, I should have gone back to sleep, right? No, I laid back down and closed my eyes for 2 seconds, then sprung out of bed and into work clothes. I went out and got the shovel and wheelbarrow and dug up everything within 3 feet of the tree. Yes, I know I looked creepy out digging in the dirt in the dark. It crossed my mind that the neighbors might wake up and see me and think I have gone mad, but I don't really care what they think. I do care what people think of my spirituality and faith, however. Since I prayed for God to save the tree, I might be accused of not really believing since I did not just go back to sleep. But I believe when I pray I am not talking to a God "up there" or out in space somewhere; I am talking to God who dwells right inside me. When I pray, His Holy Spirit ignites a fire in me and puts me to work. That's why I like to think I am participating in His work, especially in gardening. I did not invent the system that makes things grow - I just join in. Sometimes I do stupid things that get in the way, like spraying Roundup around my favorite tree, but I join God in forgiving me, too, and helping make things right again.

Family

I cannot imagine how difficult life would be without family. I am so glad I don't have to try! I have the most loving and supportive family I could ever hope for. They are also the smartest, best-looking, and funniest family. If you don't believe me, just ask us! I just spent the last few days with my kids and grandkids, and I am filled to overflowing with love and pride. God has been very good to me.

Hannah's Birthday!

My little Hannah is already 2 years old! I am excited to go celebrate with her and all the family. Babies are babies for such a very short time. As a grandma, I wish I could slow it down so I wouldn't feel like I have missed so much; but as parents, the timing is probably just about right. I remember being ready for my kids to turn two and move towards being able to communicate with me more and grow in independence. Each step towards adulthood has an element of saying good-bye, but it also is saying hello to a new person each day. I love the adults my babies have become and still get to witness their growing faith as they change into the people that God designed them to be. It is fun to see the emerging person unfolding in little Hannah. What a beautiful person she is already with only 2 years behind her!

Fast

Fast, breakfast, fasten, color-fast, faster, fast food, fast girl, fasting, fastidious, hold fast, fastest, fast and furious, fastigiate, fastigium, steadfast

Just thinking about the word fast. It means to do without food, move at high speed, and be stuck or immoveable, among many other things. Why do we use the same word for opposite things? I started the Lenten season as a student of Lutheranism. I was trying to get into the "feasts and seasons" and the liturgies and parts of the church I had rejected as a younger Christian. I was, after all, on a journey of possibly becoming a ministers' wife in the Lutheran church, so I wanted to be open-minded and learn more about things I did not understand. So I began the lenten season as many folks do - giving something up as I turned to God and remembered all He gave up for me. I chose to give up sugar, not in a strict sense, but to reject foods that did not have anything going for it other than sugar. This was a good choice (or bad choice if you look at it differently) because I am a sugar addict. I was quite strict about this at first, and whenever I was tempted to eat something I shouldn't, I would pray for strength and receive it. I lightened up for social occasions, like Steve's birthday. When I found out I was in a very bad dream and suddenly was awakened to the fact that the ministers' wife journey was fake, I completely jumped off the Lutheran ship and dived right into a sea of sugar. I thought I was drowning at first, but I remembered to pray in spite of breaking the sugar fast, and I am back on land. After a few weeks (I think - I am in a bit of a time warp), I went back to the Lutheran church in Marion where I started this lent thing, not for lenten group or for worship, but to talk to the Director of Spiritual Transformation (cool title, isn't it?). I had made this appointment with her back in January, not really knowing why. This is how long it takes to get in to see her, and now I know why I needed to see her. She is an amazing Christian woman, and I confided in her. She helped me see my own heart, that all I really want is to know God more and understand my place in His heart. I am an important part of this fastigiate body of His, just as we all are. My soul is steadfast in Him, and I will not fail. I rarely actually "hear" His voice, but it doesn't stop me from listening and He always answers. I don't have to hear it to know it. Two days ago, I ate a Klondike bar without any guilt, and it was good. I have not had any sugar since. Doesn't matter if I do or don't. The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, His mercies never come to an end. They are new every morning. Great is Thy faithfulness! "The Lord is my portion," says my soul. Therefore I will hope in Him.

Guess where I was?

Within 15 minutes, I tied 9 shoes, helped solve 3 "tragedies" worth crying over, got at least 10 hugs, and heard "Mrs. Bailey, watch this!!" about 50 times from all directions. Did you guess where I was? Afternoon recess with Kindergartners! It was wonderful!

Spring break is over

Spring break was a great time to be with family and friends. It was great to be with the Powers and Clark families in Polk City - walking downtown to the park was my favorite; it is like walking back in time to a place where I was a young mom raising kids. We often ventured out to find a playground or just walk around town. I usually did not have any money so I could not take the kids for an ice cream treat when they were little. So that is what we did on Spring Break - the kids and grandkids and I all walked downtown and got ice cream treats then played at the playground in the middle of the town square. It was one of my favorite parts of the week - simple pleasures. I love my family.

Now Spring Break is over and I am back to work and loving it. Being with all the little kiddos is really wonderful -every day is rich with simple pleasures.

1John 3 How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are!

Heart Armor

The most common complaint from my little counselees is that someone is "being mean" to them (saying mean things, talking bad about them to others, giving dirty looks). With all the many complaints, you would think the world is completely full of meanies. Actually, the same kids complaining are the ones being complained about. It is a lot about perception. So I teach kids to put on the "heart armor." I ask them to picture a knight in his armor and how since they are wearing all that metal, arrows can't hurt them. Heart armor is something you keep in your heart that protects us from the flaming arrows of mean words and dirty looks. If you keep your heart armor strong, mean words and looks can just bounce off you and fall to the floor. Are you ready to put that armor on? OK, then repeat after me "No matter what... they say or do...I am still....a wonderful person!" I let them change the word "wonderful" to any word that they use to describe something that they think is great (awesome, amazing, sweet, cool, fantastic, etc.)

Ephesians 6:10-17 Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God so that you can take your stand against the devil's schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world, and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.

No matter what they say or do, I am still God's precious child.

Helping children

When kids tell you things about their world that make you shudder, you have to report it - it is the law. It's not that I don't WANT to report it - of course I do! I want help for the kiddos- they should not have to live like this. The problem is that our best recourse for family problems seems to be retribution. I wish that families knew that when their problems are reported, there will be help for them. Why is it that when we help, it doesn't feel like help? How do you make "helping" feel good to the helped? It is National Social Worker Week, and I am extrememly thankful for the social workers out there. It has to be the hardest job - they are on the front lines of a war we are losing. Social workers go into the field because they love people. They see the social problems and want to make a difference. Unfortunately, the system we have in place for them to do their job is extremely flawed, and I know it makes their work even tougher. I do not pretend to know how I might change this system. But I can clearly see that we consider "help" is not being interpreted that way.

I have a family at my school that despises me right now. I had to make a report and I handled it with them in the gentlest, most compassionate way that I know how. They have complained about me to the principal and forbid their child to see me. They are fighting it and it feels terrible. Yesterday, the case worker called me to see if I had any other information that I wanted to add. I wanted to say no, but I couldn't. I felt like Jim Carrey in "Liar" when he was telling the police officer about all the times he broke the law, and the officer said, "Is there anything else?" He tried to say no, but couldn't and said a very pained, "YEESSS!" and opened the glove box full of traffic tickets. So I had to tell her more that I had learned that is relevant to the case. I don't know how much uglier this situation will get. She said "do you want to be listed as reporter or as by your name? I said it doesn't matter. It will be obvious to them that it was me that reported. I wish I could think that my reporting will help matters. I have to believe that it will help the little girl. But I wish I knew how to help the family, because if the family isn't helped, how can this little 6 year old get better? Kids are designed to copy their parents. She is probably going to come to school hating me just like her parents do. I have already watched this happen with another family that I "helped."

Until someone comes up with a better paradigm, I will keep playing by this system; it is the best we have ever had. I just wish there were more adoptive parents out there right now. There are so many children whose parents are losing custody and not enough places for the children to go. There is one girl right now whose Mom is about to lose her. She has been staying with a grandma who is not biologically connected to her and only remotely socially connected; she was only "keeping" her temporarily until mom could get her back. It is not going to happen. I want to bring her home so bad. She writes me love notes every day. All she wants in life is a mommy to love her. It is not looking like it is going to happen.

No comment necessary. I am just venting today. I am ready to face another day with a smile on my face and I will love the little children as best as I can for the time that I have with them.

Kingdom of God

I have been thinking lately about the Christian community as opposed to the individual Christian experience. I wonder if we have lost a precious gift that God intended us to have by not focusing enough on community and too much on the individual. As far as I know, Jesus never used the phrase "accept me as your personal savior", but you hear and read Christians use that phrase a lot. I never hear anyone really use the phrase "kingdom of God". In fact, who uses the word "kingdom" at all? A kingdom is a place where the King is central and everyone lives under the King's rule. That doesn't sound appealing at first to us individualistic capitalists. But if you know and love the King, the one who made every cell in your body and considers you his most beloved masterpiece in the universe, the one who loves you so much He died for you, then living in His kingdom becomes something quite amazing, doesn't it? I want to live there. I am living there now to a certain extent, but not in its entirety, because I still pray in the Lord's prayer, "your kingdom come, your will be done on earth at it is in heaven."

Excerpt from "Book of Faith Lenten Journey"
In the gospels, the word kingdom appears some 123 times; Jesus uses the word 98 times. It is the heart of his message. Mark - the earliest of all the gospels - records the beginning of Jesus' ministry this way: "Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God, and saying, "The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news." And the good news, of course, is that the kingdom is for everyone. the only ones excluded are those who exclude themselves.

Fulfillment

Some facebook friends are looking for people "who are actually working the type of job they absolutely love, know they have been gifted to do, and feel a sense of fulfillment?" I really should be one of those people. I sought this career out, it uses my skills, I have a passion for it, it is very meaningful, and I even get paid pretty well. Some days I absolutely love it. But the last part of the question is what trips me up: ..."and feel a sense of fulfillment." I feel empty at the end of the day - I don't feel fulfilled at all, but I feel completely drained. I don't know the reason for this; maybe there are many reasons. It is a really hard job, in spite of the fact that some days I am playing games and coloring and playing with play-doh; these kiddos are little puzzles to solve because in an instant they can become little animals that bite and kick and run away. I am also working with educators who are beat up by society for doing a job that everyone loves to criticize but very few want to really help. I am also working with families under stress, many lacking in financial, mental, and spiritual resources. They do not appreciate my help - in fact, sometimes they turn on me and hate me and complain about me to the principal.

But maybe it is not about the job at all. Maybe jobs aren't supposed to provide a sense of fulfillment. In the mornings, I usually read a passage from Oswald Chambers "My Utmost for His Highest" - today's reading was about serving the Lord and not serving others. Maybe my focus has been too much on serving others - that is my job after all. But when you serve people, they are ungrateful. sometimes they don't want help - some people like to hang on to the very things that are making them miserable....some people like to hang on to the very things that are making them miserable...Wow, I was talking about other people in that sentence but it just screamed at ME! Am I hanging on to helping people with their problems and is that precisely what is making me miserable? What if I let go of that and just focused on serving God? Then it wouldn't matter how people reacted to it, would it? I am not switching jobs today, but I am going to try a switch of attitude. I am going to be present with each person that I encounter, but I am going to try and remember that I am not serving them - I am serving the Lord Jesus Christ. I know this is not a new concept - it is words I have heard many times, but it means something different to me now. For years, I have gotten through education by praying that God would help me see HIM in the face of each person. But that was so I could love that person like He does. Now, my prayer is different. I want to see God in each person, literally, so I can serve and love HIM like He wants me to! That is, after all, what I was made for.

Lent

I remember the first time I heard about Lent. Our family did not practice Lent, or really much Christianity at all. When I heard my friends talk about it, I thought they were giving something up for "lint." (the only word in my tiny brain that I could fit with what I was hearing). I thought that was very odd to give up something for lint, but I was not one to judge. Even after becoming a Christian as a young adult, I did not understand Lent. Now that I am a practicing Lutheran-type Christian, it is becoming more meaningful to me each year - the ceremony of ashes, humbling myself and putting my focus on the 40 day fast of Jesus, turning away from things that block my view of God's work and clearing the path for His work in my life. It is kind of like cleaning the lint out of the lint trap so that the dryer can do it's job quicker...it's hard to admit when you are wrong, isn't it? Actually, admitting I am wrong is freeing, because even as I try to clear the path to have a clearer view of God's work in my heart, I quickly fail, and am reminded of how much I need grace, over and over and over. Then it is finally Easter - the Christian season of the biggest and best reminder of God's ultimate sacrifice - He gave Himself up for Lent! And now I receive his continual outpouring of grace - the real heart of Christianity! I can't live through Lent without the knowledge that Easter is already here and always is.

techno-logical

Just want to laud the wisdom and wonders of technology....I have heard complaints about how technology is keeping us from relating on a personal level. I understand the problem of not getting together for face to face human contact, but isn't it wonderful that when you can't have that personal encounter that we can communicate so easily through phone, email, texts, facebook, and chat?(Notice I did not mention twitter - that's just stupid). When Darrell is gone during the week, we can call each other all the time. When he fell on the ice after class, I could talk to him while he was still on the ground! I didn't have to wonder when he would get back to his room to call me. (Mom still thinks I must be home when I call her).

I was disappointed to not be able to go to Des Moines this weekend. I had a great time with my Iowa City folks, but we did want to see the Polk City folks this weekend and it was disappointing to have to cancel due to weather and illness. But I texted with Dan, emailed the Clarks, talked to Olivia on the phone, and chatted on facebook with Dan yesterday and this morning with Mel. I can check everyone's facebook status and look at their pictures. We can play games together (Lexulous, anyone?). I can blog about my feelings now, and may even get a comment back. Three things would make this even better - a blog from Dan , a phone call from Hannah, and Amy to get well enough to do any of the above. Technology is wonderful and will tide me over until we can finally get together. Spring break is coming!

Post Lent

I will not be blogging as much until after Lent. No, I did not give up writing for Lent. I did join a Lenten "journey" that includes daily journaling. I have a specific journal for that- the old fashioned kind with pages and pen- so I have to learn the physical skill of handwriting again. I will still post something here in the blog once in awhile, but until Easter, daily posts aren't going to happen. I promise I am still writing every day - thanks for your encouragement!

Girls just wanna have fun

I need more FUN! I need MUSIC! I can't blog anymore until everyone watches the video on my last post and comments and then we plan a big party where we all dance a huge choreographed dance and jump up and down and shout, "IT'S GONNA BE A GOOD DAY!!!" Or shout anything - just dance and shout! Come on - watch it - let's do it! OK, I gotta go to work now.

What touches my soul

I can't explain what moves me or why - but this does. Not that it is a well-made video - it is not. But what happened in Chicago is, well, to quote a rich and famous person, "that was the coolest thing EVER! Oh my God!" It makes me want to live in Chicago. It makes me believe you can walk down Michigan Ave and just see music happen. Please watch it all the way through, and leave a comment. It is just for fun - no other purpose.

http://www.oprah.com/oprahshow/Oprahs-Kickoff-Party-Flash-Mob-Dance

Valentines Day journal

What a beautiful weekend it was! I need to write it all down so I remember it forever. On Saturday, Darrell (the sweetest sweetheart of ALL sweethearts) and I spent the early morning hours talking over coffee and homemade muffins. Then we took Shawn and Lianna for a drive down Hwy 1 - it was one of those magical, beautiful mornings when the fog leaves a white coat on every little twig...and is there a prettier country road than Hwy1 south of Iowa City? We went just outside Solon to view a little acreage that would be a dream come true - it was fun to imagine how that could maybe be ours. Then we had lunch at Panera and bought tickets to "Valentines Day". Cute movie! I cried twice and laughed often. Then Darrell and I got all dressed up and went to the best restaurant imaginable - The Chef's Table, compliments of Lianna and Shawn. It was "tres magnifique" (too wonderful for English). The food was so amazing! The wine that the sommelier picked out was perfect! (sommelier is a new word for me so I had to use it). I had duck au poivre, heirloom squash salad, and a perfect creme brulee. Darrell had prime rib and onion/oxtail soup followed by a chocolate truffle cake with white chocolate filled rasperries. It was the most delicious meal you can imagine, and the ambience was perfect. All of this was just the right setting to be with the one I adore - the most dashing, hero of a man - the perfect man for me. It was one of those times that felt so perfectly wonderful that you could imagine everyone breaking into a song like in a musical - "An enchanted moment, and it sees me through. It's enough for this restless warrior just to be with you...And can you feel the love tonight....it is where we are". (I am sure there are better love songs from better musicals, but this one speaks to me. Just picture the wide-eyed wanderers as me and Darrell instead of lions). So that was Valentine's day EVE. On Valentine's Day, we went to worship, showing our love to the Source of all Love. We went out to lunch with a dear friend who broke up with her BF this week and tried to cheer her up, then went to an unplanned gathering of lots of family at mom's house. My mother, my first Valentine. Darrell and I had some alone time that evening, then the day ended with an email from Mel, dictating for Sophie and Olivia, thanking me for the electronic cards I sent them. Here is the quote: "Thank you for the painting thing card. I really like it. I like the music. It's so awesome. I want to kiss you. Love you Bam! That's all." From Sophie: "Happy Dog Year. I love you and you are so sweet. I love you. And thank you for the card. Its so doggyish. I wish I could give you a... doggy kiss right now. My dream is coming true right now. Love you Bam!"

Ambivalence

Ambivalence is a very misused word. I hate to even use it because I don't know if people will understand its meaning. If I say I am ambilivalent about an issue, many people will think I don't really care about the issue; the opposite is true - it means I have strong feelings on both sides of the fence. Because I experience so much ambivalence (strong opposing feelings in the same brain)that I need to be able to use this word and be understood. So I decided I oughta have a my own personal word for it. So here it is: janbivalence. So if I say to someone that I feel janbivalent about it, they will have to say, "what does that mean?" and I can tell them how much I both love it and hate it, or really want to and really don't want to, or...well, you get the picture. There are very few things that I cannot see both sides of, and can feel strongly about either way. It actually helps me to be a good counselor, but it also makes life pretty tough on me sometimes. It's a blessing and curse...Oops, there I go again.

OK, so the word "janbivalent" is great because it does paint a good picture of my thought processes, but it also sounds ridiculously dorky. So could we all chip in and spread the word on what "ambivalent" really means so I can use the word confidently? Because there is no other word I know of that describes my plight, is there? Wow, I just put my head on the chopping block there, didn't I? Go ahead, have your fun now. Leave your witty comments. I can laugh at myself (and be crushed at the same time).

Encouragement

I fell off of my plan for daily writing, and didn't even realize I had. I just didn't do it one morning, then kind of forgot all about it. All it took to get me going again is some words of encouragement from Mel, and here I am again! I need people around me to help me be my best self. Isn't that true of all of us? I have been reading about the brain, and one thing I learned is that a neuron (a single brain cell) is pretty much useless on it's own. Neurons need the synapses - the connections between the cells. Neurons communicate with each other with sort of an electrical impulse that fires the other neurons. They need each other's communication in order to do anything - just like us! Thanks for reading, commenting, and keeping in touch with me in all your many wonderful ways.

parental paradox and prayer

I have 2 very sad cases happening right now in counseling. I cannot reveal the details since my job is to keep things secret, but I don't think it will take away from the story. One little girl started misbehaving and acting out in ways that sent up red flags. After talking to her, I learned of her problem - a terrible one that children should not have to face. I hadn't encountered this particular situation before, but I followed through with my job in the way I have been trained. In short, the reaction from the parent was that the child was never to talk to me again. I thought I was doing the right things on behalf of this family, but the outcome was the parent removing me from all contact with them. I asked God for affirmation that I really was doing the right thing. Later on that same day, I found a message on my office phone. It was from another mother of another little girl, exact same age and even the same classroom. She described in detail the exact same scenario as the first family - only she was asking my help. She had asked her daughter how she felt about the school counselor, and her daughter said she liked me. So mom wanted her daughter to have a caring person to talk to as their family worked through this horrible ordeal. Same situation, completely opposite response. Does this story sound contrived? If I were you, I wouldn't believe me. Statistically, it is crazy that the same situation is happening in the same classroom. Beyond that, what are the odds that the truth would come out at the same time? What are the chances that a mom would even describe this situation in a phone message? But God works like this - and it still surprises me when he does! I don't pretend to understand how He works, but I know He does work on behalf of those who love him. I thanked God for the affirmation. It was no coincidence that I received that phone call on the exact same day I asked for His guidance. He put me in this place at this time to help children, and He is equipping me to do it. The first mom can keep me from talking to her daughter, but no one can keep me from praying.

Another puzzle

I don't want to come across as sexist, but there are some differences between men and women that puzzle me. For example, why do men name things with combinations of numbers and letters but women name things by description or designer? What is it about driving down the road that makes so many guys act like it is a contest to see who gets there first? I still catch my husband, a reformed speedaholic, gritting his teeth and clenching the steering wheel when cars pass him on the highway. Why is it when you talk to most guys about something, they think it is some kind of test to see if they can come up with the right answer, even if you didn't ask a question? I don't mind that we are different - it is a puzzle though.

gypsies and hoboes

Throughout my childhood, I dreamed of being a gypsy - wild and free! Gypsies always wore bright colors with lots of homemade accessories: scarves, bells, beads, vests, hats. They were artists who traveled together, made music and danced together every night, told original stories and laughed a lot, and wandered wherever their hearts led them. I have no idea if gypsies were really like this, but it is what I pictured. If I couldn't be a gypsy, I would be a hobo and travel alone. I wouldn't own anything but the pack I could carry on a stick and the clothes I wore. I would wash in lakes and sleep wherever I could find shelter each day in my travels. I would jump on trains and ride them until they stopped someplace interesting. I used to take long walks down the railroad tracks, collecting rocks, and daydreaming. Railroads were still used a lot back then, so there was always the added excitement of "what if a train comes while I am on this bridge?" I was probably 8 years old the first time I thought that, and I did not believe it would ever really happen to me - and it didn't. But I did experience a passing train with a steep hill on one side of the tracks and a river on the other. The train thundered past me less than 15 ft from where I perched on the side of that hill. It was exhilarating! (How old are you when things stop being exciting and become just plain stupid?) When I was about 5, I told mom I was going to run away. She helped me wrap a package of saltines in a handkerchief and tied it to a stick that I could carry over my shoulder. I went a block away to my favorite spot by the creek. When the saltines were gone and I was tired of picking flowers and playing in the creek, I returned home. I can't remember if a single word was said after that about my running away or my change of heart.

the grass is always greener

I was a wanderer as far back as I can remember. One of my earliest memories is of me begging my mom to let me cross the street on my own. I convinced her I could remember to look both ways before crossing, and then I was free. Once I had the freedom to cross the street on my own, I would have no boundaries. I was 4 years old. I loved wandering down the street to the creek. I would wade in the cold water, hunt for rocks, and watch for minnows. For hours, I would pick violets and dandelions in the open field next to the creek. I wished I could reach the blossoms on the crab apple trees and pick them too for my bouquets, but they were huge trees (to me) and the lowest branches were several feet higher than my outstretched hands; they made a beautiful canopy above me. This peaceful place was one long block away from my house, and the open field next to it lead up to a busier street. Across that street was a winding gravel road that led out into the country. Someday I would wander down that gravel road. For now, I was still content to just visit the crab apple trees and play in the creek and pick flowers. It felt like the perfect place and so far from home.

kids

Being an elementary school counselor, I spend most of my time with kids. I love them to pieces, but some days get hard - like when kids show signs of being abused and you have to gather information and call DHS and parents - and when kids are throwing huge tantrums and don't care where their fists and feet fly or where their teeth chomp - or when their teachers who are spending too much time with kids and not enough with adults ACT like little children - these are some of the tough things about working with little children. So when it is time to get away from work and get some rest, my first thought is to be with my loving husband in our little cottage and have quiet time alone. After a few hours of peace and quiet, do you know what my heart longs for? My kids and my grandkids. I just can't get enough of those kids!

Puzzles

One of the things I like about my job is that I get to solve lots of puzzles, which I enjoy. I love Tetris, and jigsaw puzzles, and scrabble, and now my new favorite, Lexulous. I call the little kiddos I work with "puzzles" when I haven't figured them out yet. Word puzzles are much easier to solve, but not as interesting, and obviously not as rewarding. My children puzzles are precious to me. But some of them, I just don't get. Why does a 3rd grade, intelligent, boy from what appears to be a decent family, bite the arm of another 3rd grader? Why does another little boy apologize incessantly when he has the most beautiful heart and would never dream of doing anything wrong? Why does a girl tell her grandma that she is scared to go to school because she is so afraid of her teacher, but yet the girl keeps trying to get her teacher to "be her friend" on facebook and appears to adore this teacher when she is at school? These are just a few of my little puzzles I could not solve today.

The quintessential slob

Our women's group talked about the pitfalls of perfectionism. One by one, the women complained of how hard it is to deal with their quest to be perfect, either in their crafts, or their housekeeping, or their character, etc. A few claimed it was NOT perfectionism, but a strong "attention to detail" and a "heightened awareness of aesthetics." I was not relating AT ALL. I feel really good about myself when I can succeed at just not being a loser. Why set the bar so high, girls? I didn't say a word, but just listened to them one by one complain of their perfectionism. Finally, it got around the circle to the woman right before me. I was so glad she was there. She painted a completely different picture for herself, saying, "My house is generally pretty chaotic as I have several projects started that I would rather work on than do housekeeping, and I am not very good at finishing the projects - I mean the house isn't DIRTY, but it is pretty cluttered. I am reading 5 different books right now that I may or may not finish. I have resigned myself to never getting very good at any one thing or topic because I just have too many interests. And I am OK with that. I think I would get bored if I had more focus." And on she went describing her life of trying to be just "OK" and being comfortable with that. Then it was my turn. I said, "Everything that she said, ditto for me. Except my house is dirty." When the group was over, I was the last to leave because I was making friends with my kindred spirit. When we went outside and saw the new snowfall, everyone else in the group was carefully brushing every snowflake off of their entire car. My new friend and I brushed off our back windshield, let the wipers do the front, and rode off waving at the rest of the group, still working on their perfectionism.

sleepy

I promised myself I would write everyday. I am finding if I don't do it first thing in the morning, it is really tough to make it happen. Here it is after 8:00 and I am trying to write and keep my eyes open at the same time. I am not sure which is tougher at this point. Tribble is running around my feet trying to make me laugh to stay awake. It's not worki

being happy while working

"The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet." Fredrick Buechner
This quote was in the sermon yesterday at First Lutheran Church in Cedar Rapids. He was talking about God's calling - what does God call you to BE. I always thought your calling was what God wanted you to do. Well, today I am going to my job. I can focus on what I do (check email/calendar, walk through the building and check with teachers, meet with kids, do classroom guidance lessons and small group lessons, call parents and social workers and agencies, document everything in a database, work on my PLP and a 504 or an IEP, and the many other "things I do.") I think I would be happier to focus on who I am and do the things I love. I am going to go hang out in my little room I created - decorated with care bears and a lava lamp and a little, lighted fountain of water cascading over little stones - one of which has "believe" engraved on it. I will invite children to come join me and we will play with puppets or create a work of art or play in the sand tray where we dig for buried treasures. While we are playing, they may want to share their problems with me, and I will listen as if their story is the only one in the world that matters - because that will be true at that moment. I will be happy being there, and a child might be happier for having been with me.

Fire Hazard

College Community School District had their annual visit from the fire marshall this week. At my building, Prairie Crest Elementary, the principal and head custodian have been making it very clear that they expect NO violations, and that we should follow the fire code even when the fire marshall is not expected to come. I was gone the day before he came, so did not receive the final reminders and admonitions. When the fire marshall and his 2 helpers walked in my room, I am sure I turned pale. My room was a disaster! There were piles of care bears, puppets, winter clothes, books, puzzles, and curricula all around the room (the piles were not MIXED, mind you - I do have a tiny bit of organization skills). There was probably no less than 50 various examples of children's art work hanging around the room - gifts from my students that MUST be displayed! My desk had several different piles of papers that I had not yet figured out how to file. OK, you probably get the picture. I was so embarrassed! I spent Saturday afternoon organizing and I feel better about it now, but it is too late as far as being written up as a fire hazard.

While I was at school organizing, Darrell spent the afternoon at Wartburg Seminary moving into his dorm room that he will live in during the week. It is better than a dorm room - actually it is more like a nice hotel room. We are both excited about the journey we are on. It is sometimes hard to let go and trust God for the outcome, but we are growing in that. It is a lot like what I am doing with the book "The Artist's Way", learning to relax, tap into the spiritual part of me, and let it out. Let God control the outcome. I know that God is creative (wow, that was an understatement - He is THE CREATOR); I know a tiny bit of his creative spark is inside of me. I will trust him to fan it into a flame if He wants to. Let the fire marshall write HIM up!

It's not a park

One day when Melanie and I wanted to take a walk together, she had told the girls that they were going to a park with Bam. We chose a wonderful walking path in Johnston behind Panera that winds through trees, beautiful grass and gardens, a horse pasture, and there are lovely picnic places with picnic tables and space to play. Sophie was mad that it was not her idea of a park - no swings or slides or anything - nothing to do but walk. I tried to reason with her that some parks are made up of all these things we are seeing, but do not have playgrounds. She just kept saying, "It's not a park". She would not be convinced - this was not a park in her world view. I let it go. Later, as we were buckling her back into the car seat in her mom's car and I was getting ready to go on my way, I hugged her and kissed her and lovingly said, "Goodbye my Little Sophie! Bam loves you SO much!" Her response? She would not even look at me. She lowered her head and voice and muttered..."it's not a park". I just had to laugh. I love her so much!

I always seem to have a spiritual struggle going on over something - usually it is me not measuring up in someway, but sometimes it is more philosophical - me trying to understand something a little (or a lot) over my head - things that just don't fit my worldview. Recently, I heard the phrase "growing edge" as a polite way to discuss one's weakness; I like that phrase. My growing edge is learning to become "a human being, instead of a human doing" (another phrase I learned a long time ago but can't seem to apply to my life). God is hitting me with this from all directions: the women's group I am in, the daily devotional I am using, the book called "The Artist's Way" that I am reading...ALL of them keep pointing me in this same direction of focusing my spirit on who I am instead of what I do. I DON'T GET IT! Even my husband is pushing me this direction - I say, "What do you want to do this weekend?" and he says, "Be with you." Sweet and romantic, right? It is frustrating! You can't answer a DO question with a BE answer! So I say, "Thanks, Love. I want to be with you, too. Now what do we do??" He says, "You do what you want. I just want to be with you." Grrr. God does the same thing. I ask, "What do you want me to do, God?" And he says, "Be with me." OK THEN WHAT?! What if I stop DOING and there is nothing there? I tried to hash this out in conversation with Darrell. He had some wonderful theology that still didn't make much sense and I ended the conversation with "It doesn't make sense." He laughed his loving laugh and said, "I can see Sophie saying, "It's not a park." Hmmmm.....that helps. I think I am starting to get it now....and it doesn't really matter if I get it or not, does it?