Pen to Paper - Or Something Like It

As I drove into work this morning, the roads and not the grass were covered in a light layer of snow. Strange. I scanned the ground searching for even the slightest trace of snow, and yet there was none. I don't think I've ever seen snow on the road and not the fields.

I have such a pretty drive to work. A great deal of my drive is through a park. Wide open fields mixed with densely crowded woods. I peered deep into those woods this morning, feeling an intense desire to visit them once again. It's been too long since I wandered around in the trees and wrapped myself up in the land. I miss it. However, winter is not for wandering - at least not in the frigid temps we've been having lately and certainly not with a six year old in tow.

But I need to find some way to clear out the clutter in my head, to quiet the noise, and to release all the words swirling around there. I need time and space to write and maybe even a stinging shot of inspiration.

Why must all of the richest of my ideas come while I'm driving or in the shower and then seep away into oblivion before my fingers touch a keyboard or my pen to paper? The busyness of life and the lure of entertainment has stifled the gift I know God put inside of me. As I drove here this morning, I prayed that He would keep it from atrophying or evaporating since I've neglected to use it for so long.

Write. Write every day. I know this is a must, and yet I lie in bed every night drained of energy and wishing that I had written just one line. I'm sitting here with twelve students as they serve their time in Saturday school copying pages out of the dictionary - certainly not fun for them and not something I looked forward to overseeing either, but it has allowed me this small space in which to gather some of my thoughts. I'm determined to improve, to write more, and hopefully, to write a bit every day. Maybe, just maybe, this is a start.

Friday Afternoons

I know that Friday afternoons are exciting for most people for a variety of reasons. The weekend has arrived with promises of a change of pace and activity. There will be more time for friends and family and sleep. Friday afternoons at a school have a energy all their own. Kids, in general, are naturally geared towards anticipation and excitement. It's almost impossible, at least for me, to be unaffected by their energy. There is a flurry of activity. Students are headed out for sports practices or joining up to crash each other's houses for video game or movie marathons, sleepovers, or birthday parties.

Today, we've just finished up Hobbit Day in the 7th grade. All of the students and some of the teachers, myself included arrived decked out as characters from the book or from the Lord of the Rings trilogy. When someone mentions a dress up day, my ears prick up and my mind races into planning mode. I showed up at Eowyn from LOTR since The Hobbit is lacking in female characters, and I like the idea that she's royalty but also a tough chick who wants to join the men and go off to fight.

Another reason for the anticipation on this particular day is that it's absolutely frigid outside and have been spitting snow at us all day. The weather predictors are saying that we could get a nice little snow overnight, and while we all wish that had come on a school day we still relish the idea of getting to play around in a little winter wonderland tomorrow. We don't get much snow here in Middle Tennessee, so, for us, every little bit counts.

Whatever the weekend brings, I'm hoping and praying for peace, fun, and safety for all my students, friends, and family and for unexpected blessings just around the corner.

(I know I haven't written for this blog for about two years now. In fact, I've done precious little writing, and it's high time for me to start again, and so, here I go....)

Odds & Ends (and a Peaceful New Year)

It's been a few days since my last post, twelve to be exact. However, I've been wrapping myself up in a cozy quilt of home, family, and Christmas. Sitting in front of a roaring fire that my husband has lovingly built and watching Willow Grace play happily with her new toys in front of the Christmas tree while I tackle a few dozen thank you notes has taken most all the extra time I've had, not that I've had much.

It turns out that Willow Grace has needed almost as much tending to out of the hospital as she did in. While most people might see Willow Grace and think that she looks close to normal, there are things a mother's eye do not miss. The pale shade of her cheek, the faint dark circles under her eyes, the lack of luster in her hair, the tendency to whine -- these all do not belong to my daughter. She's also been getting up between two and four o'clock every morning and staying up. We both are in desperate need of more sleep. Never has she been so clingy or so quick to cry. Since she was a newborn she was low-maintenance and seemed to have a near perfect balance of dependence and independence. However, that seems to have changed a bit since she became ill. The doctor assures me that this is quite common in recovering from HUS and an extended hospital stay and all will be back to normal in a few weeks. I had to take her back to the doctor last week. She was looking quite ghost-like, was coughing incessantly, and often threw up whenever she coughed too hard or cried too hard. It turns out that it's just a really nasty cold made worse by her compromised immune system. The doctor said it would be another couple weeks before her immune system is strong enough to fight off much, and so we've decided to keep her out of school for at least a week and maybe two.

Both Chris and I ended up at the walk-in clinic yesterday morning. It was kind of weird to be seen as a couple, but since we had basically the same symptoms, I guess they thought they'd "kill two birds with one stone" (the birds being the illnesses and not us). We had already sent Willow Grace to stay with his parents on New Year's Eve to help protect her from whatever was going on with us; she certainly didn't need anything more to deal with. It turns out that both of us were diagnosed with sinusitis, and I had also developed bronchitis. A pair of steroid shots and a couple of z-packs later, and we were good to good to go!

Upon arriving home from the hospital a couple weeks ago, I've been busily trying to get the house into some sort of organized state, a battle that I feel starts fresh every morning, complicated somewhat by tending to a recovering daughter and then falling ill myself. Of course I won't be taking down my tree until next Saturday. The twelve days of Christmas ends on Wednesday, and Saturday will be my first chance to tend to that task. That's fine by me; we were so late in getting it up. I really don't mind enjoying it a little while longer. However, perhaps after all the holiday trimmings are put away things will start to fall into place a little easier.

A new year. And so we begin again. The new semester starts tomorrow, and I am truly looking forward to being back with my colleagues and friends and to getting back into a normal schedule. This year, I am a full-time substitute, which keeps me quite busy but generally spares me taking grading or other work home. For the first month back to school, however, I'll be teaching eighth grade science. Yes, eighth grade science for a month! I'm a little nervous about this, especially since my natural talents tend to be in the humanities and not in the areas of math and science. However, I relish a challenge, and I am sure that I can meet this one. In the realm of new beginnings, I also haven't worked out since before Willow Grace fell ill, and so my plan is to start that back up again tomorrow. Yes, I know I've been ill and out of practice; don't worry. I'll start out slow. I think I'll kick it off with some Pilates and light jogging this week to get myself loosened up and ready for something more strenuous by next week.

One final note: This morning, I was listening to a preacher who said that Christmas was about reconciliation and peace, not between men and each other but between men and God. When the angels said, "Peace on earth," they meant between men and God. Either I had never thought of it that way before or it never really struck me as it did this morning. I had sometimes wondered why there wasn't more peace between men. In discussing this with Chris, he said, "Of course, there will never be peace between men.... A man must have peace with God before he can have peace with men." And so, this year, my wish, my prayer, for you, my dear friends, is that you may have peace in your home, with your family, and with all those you come into contact but most of all with Jesus Christ.

New World

The world is new again. It feels much like it did when Willow Grace was a newborn or when she started to walk and discover things on her own causing me to rediscover so much I had forgotten or simply ignored.

Last night, Chris took Willow Grace and me out for a drive, just to get us out of the house for something pleasant and for a change of scenery. Even when it snowed a couple days ago, we remained indoors and simply peaked out the storm door marveling at the beauty of our world dressed in fluffy white crystals. First, last night, we stopped by Sonic for some sweet ice tea and corn dogs (for Chris & me, WG still not really eating) and then wandered around Bellevue in the car looking at Christmas lights. Fields blanketed in glistening snow, houses outlined with festive colored or white icicle lights, and yards bedecked with gently lit over-sized Nativities and giant blow-up snowmen and Santa Clauses -- I'm not sure whose eyes were wider, Willow Grace's or my own. First of all, we both LOVE Christmas, but also we've seen little else besides the hospital room and our house in almost a month. It was visually overwhelming, and we loved every minute of it!

Earlier in the day yesterday, Willow Grace had her first follow up appointment. Our pediatrician was very encouraged and encouraging. He told us that while her progress is slow and will likely continue to move forward slowly, she is still making progress. The long list of issues I quickly ticked off was met with a singular response - all normal parts of her recovery and no cause for concern. He believes that it could take another 3-4 weeks before her energy, strength, and appetite returns.

As for me, I've returned to work today. Strange, exhausting, and wonderful! I've been soaking up all the hugs, cheers, kind and loving words, and exuberant smiles lavished upon me. I am so grateful to work with such loving, thoughtful people. What a blessing! At the moment, I'm sitting in a room monitoring nine eighth graders who are taking their science exams. It's pretty laid back, a good way to ease back into things. I'll only be here for two days before Christmas break hits, and then I'll have the next two weeks to regroup, refresh, and help Willow Grace along in her recovery.

I want to continue to thank you for your prayers and words of encouragement and for loving my little family so well.

Once a teacher....

I am an English teacher, and that will always be part of me. It’s just not what I’m currently doing and haven’t since I had Willow Grace a little over 3 years ago. But I will always teach in some form, even if it’s an unconventional form. The last two years I worked for admissions, and I’m thrilled that this year finds me back in the classroom every day.

Current Job: Full time substitute teacher, middle and high school in a private Christian school
Job Satisfaction: Oh yeah!

This morning I sat in a sixth grade classroom listening to a girl praying for her classmates and their families. Through the wall, I could hear a third grade class next door singing “This is the Day” in their sweet little voices. Nearly every morning I sing that song myself, choosing to recognize that each day is a gift from God and also choosing to live my life in gratitude.

I love working in a Christian school. I love that at any moment you may walk into a classroom, office, or even hallway and find people praying. I love that our football teach sings “A Mighty Fortress is Our God” in the locker room before heading onto the field. And I am saddened that no everyone has that freedom, even in our country. Not trying to be political, just expressing my feelings… I’m not going to focus on the negative today. I really just want to express my gratitude for where God has assigned me. It has not always been easy. In fact, there have been moments, days, and even weeks when I thought about giving up and moving on. I’ve faced some of the hardest trials of my life here. But the Lord has kept me here, and I’m content to be here for as long as He wants.

Reflections

Today, as I sat at my reception desk in the middle school lobby, I heard a student coming in the front door, a distinct rattle issuing from her hand. It was the sound of a brown bag lunch. I love that sound. I love the beginning of each semester when stores have isles dedicated to school supplies. I always want to stock up on folder, pencils, and notebook paper.

I hated middle and high school.

Sure, I had good moments, but, for the most part, it was, for me, a mighty struggle. I attended a private, college-prep school, and most of the kids there came from upper middle class to high-class families. I always felt somewhat like Molly Ringwold from Pretty in Pink. I was the poor girl from the wrong side of the tracks, and I just didn’t fit. I didn’t travel to Aspen for Christmas or go on vacations to Europe in the summer. I didn’t receive a brand new car when I turned 16. I didn’t go for weekend shopping trips to Atlanta or Chicago; in fact, I almost never shopped at the mall or nice department stores. I didn’t attend parties every Friday and Saturday night. I certainly endured a fair share of ridicule. However, it was determined not to let it beat me, and I emerged from it all with a solid education, a thicker skin, and a stronger character.

It’s interesting to me that I actually like school so much. Perhaps it’s because my own education was book-ended so well. I loved both elementary school and college. From the time that I was a young girl, I wanted to be a teacher. I loved being a teacher. I still want to teach; after teaching for 10 years, I miss it, just about everything about it, but mostly the relational side of it. I always hoped to make the school experience better for the students than it was for me. It bothers me just a bit telling people that I’m not currently teaching, but it’s not what I’m supposed to be doing right now. I know that. God has a different purpose for me to fulfill right now, and I really am content to be in the middle of His plan, right where I’m supposed to be. The experience has been quite rewarding already. Of course, it’s also been quite nice to leave my work at work and have my home life be just about my family right now. But, more importantly, I have felt God using me in other’s lives. What more could I ask for?

Thousands of Pictures

No, I'm not posting thousands of pics; I've been looking through thousands of pictures on the computer for a work project at school. We're trying to find pictures that would look good blown up into poster size for the offices at work, and I'm looking through a ton from athletic events and fine arts productions. While it's fun to sift through all those memories, I have to brake from it intermittently as all the images tend to run together. I think I start to get that glazed-over look in my eyes because people ask me if I'm OK when I look up at them. It's hard to focus on all those images and then to refocus on the people right in front of my desk.

Have you made your Christmas list yet? I've started to think about it, but I haven't gotten very far. The other night Chris and I were about to go to sleep, and out of the blue I said, "You know what I really want for Christmas? It might sound weird, but I want one of those really large Barbie heads." Without hesitation he responded, "You want to practice different hairstyles on it." Yeah, he just gets me. He knows that I'm excited by the fact that Willow Grace is getting more hair (finally!), and he knows that I want to be really good at cute hairstyles. I didn't need to explain any of that to him. He just got it. How cool is that!?!

Me and John McCain

Today was a dress up day for the middle school students. One of them came as John McCain. I just couldn't resist getting a pic with him!

Ah, Labor Day!

Every August, as we start up a new school year, I look a few weeks ahead and start to anxiously anticipate that day off and blessing of a four day work week. This year Chris and I intentionally made no plans. As we had spent all day Saturday cleaning our house in anticipation of our dinner guests Saturday night (Burger Night with our community group-couldn’t have gone better, love those guys), our house was still relatively tidy, so that wasn’t pressing on our minds. Instead, we spent the entire morning lounging in our pajamas. What bliss! I cooked breakfast, played with Willow Grace, and then settled in for a nap on the loveseat with her. Chris snapped this shot while we were all snuggled up.

Chris titled the above picture “Sleeping Angels” when he emailed it to me. Sweet, huh? The nickname he most often uses for me, other than Kay-Kay (which is what my family & close friends often call me), is Angel. I have to tell you I love it when he calls me that. Let me tell you a little secret: If he really wanted me to do something for him, even if I was mad at him, all he’d have to do it call me Angel, and it would melt my heart and compel me do whatever he asked. The really cool thing about that is that even armed with this information, he would never use it to his advantage. But wait! It’s Monday; I need to save some of my bragging on him for Friday!

Have a great week!