Bookin' it

I did something tonight that I haven't done in years. I went to the library to check out a big ole pile of new books. Going to the library is an activity that is part and parcel of the foundation of my childhood. My first library memory was walking for what seemed like hours to get to the Nicholson Memorial Library on the town square of Garland, Texas. I can remember how cool the tiles felt on my bare feet, after pounding the hot pavement. And the smell of that place is still inside my head. It was an old building and the books were old and, even at five, I could feel the sense of history and life that was contained there. We moved away when I was nine. I came back years later just to see it again and was heartbroken to find that it had been torn down.

We moved around quite a bit during my childhood and, everywhere we went, we always staked out the library. I've read from the Chicago library and the library in Falls Church, Virginia and bookmobiles in a variety of locations. (You want to talk about a memorable place! Stepping up into that dim, cool book-smelling cave out of a hot, bright parking lot was like leaving the real world for a little while to explore a parallel universe.) Our family hunted out second hand book stores and bought huge boxes of books at garage sales. But we always had library books checked out and due back in 2 weeks. (The greatest annoyance of my childhood, aside from the fact that I was not allowed to eat all the corn on the cob I wanted, was that there was a limit to the number of books you could check out of the children's department.)

When I grew up, I fell in love with a fellow reader. Although his tastes are wildly different from mine, we were in total agreement that having your own books was the way to go. We (mostly me, actually) developed the attitude early on in our marriage that a book worth reading was book worth owing. At one point we were member of 3 book clubs. Hardly a week went by without the delivery of a box of new books. And we kept them all. Even moving half way across the country--twice--didn't cause us to pare down our collection.

The one mile move from our house to our daughter's house, though, was a different story. They didn't have the room (or the inclination) to absorb the hundreds of books that we had acquired over the years. And we had to face the fact that we hadn't read some of our treasures in more than several decades, and it wasn't reasonable to keep them. So we sold and donated our way down to the ones we really loved and couldn't do without. And for the first time in over thirty years, I've gone six months without buying any books. I've had plenty to read here, but it's been an unusual period of adjustment to stop buying a book just because I wanted to read it.

I have given myself some new reading goals in my 101 list, so going to the library is once again the thing to do. As I wandered around the rows of books tonight, I was amazed by a number of things. One was how many of the books I had already read and another was how many books I hadn't. The biography section seemed surprisingly small and the range of subjects was almost funny. Lots of books about John Wayne and Shakespeare and Hitler. Some people I'd never heard of, some people that I'd heard of that didn't seem to warrant a mention. The whole experience felt new and old, all at the same time. I came home with a novel by Chaim Potok that I read years ago. I didn't really get it then, but I think I might understand it a little better now. I brought home a biography of Elizabeth Barrett Browning because I remember being so enchanted by The Barretts of Wimpole Street when I was in 7th grade English class. Three novellas by one of my favorite authors. A biography of C.S. Lewis because my grandchildren are currently enthralled by the Chronicles of Narnia. I haven't had such a huge stack of reading material since I was a little girl.

It's all due back in two weeks. And then I can check out another big pile, as many as I want.

school and babies

GeeGee commented, about my last post, about how nice the days off and the holidays and the summer and the not-being-in-charge will be. And I'm not the least bit ashamed to tell the whole world that those were the exact reasons that I chased down a job at a school. I've spent 22 years working 10 hour days with no paid vacations and no benefits. The school schedule just totally fits what I want life to be. As I was praying about it, I came to the realization that I would be willing (except for lunchroom, because of the gluten) to do whatever was available. The first thing that came along was the position of special ed bridging aide in middle school. So that's what I am now.

The reactions to this announcement have been at the opposite end of the spectrum. Several people have looked at me with a look on their face that screams, "Are you CRAZY?" And one wonderful response was, "OH! You will LOVE it!" And that probably covers how I'm feeling about it. So excited...and a little nervous. But I think I would be a little nervous about any new job. I'm leaving a comfort zone of 22 years. So a few deep breaths are in order. The nice thing is, I feel like what I will be doing is work that really matters.

Interestingly, I have a sense that my plan to rock babies at the hospital is one of the most important things that will come out of this life change. I have an unshakable belief in the power of words. What you speak over a child helps to direct their destiny. To go and hold a child who may have been born to a crack-addict mother and pray love, blessing and protection over his or her life can, I believe, change the course of that life. I want to promise them that Jesus loves them and has plans to prosper them and not to harm them, plans to give them a hope and a future. I want to tell them that He sent me to tell them that and that He will continue to send people into their lives to help them. They will not remember me. But I know that the Lord's blessing in their lives is not dependent on that.

So, hurry summer and be over quickly. I've got things to do.

Goal No. 95--CHECK!

I didn't list my goals in order of importance and number 95 is a biggie. Life changing, as a matter of fact.

I've been doing daycare for 22 of the last 24 years of my life. I started when ksl had just turned 2. A neighborhood schoolteacher was looking for part-time care for her almost 2 year old little boy. We hooked up and that, as they say, was that. Even though there were times when I desperately wanted out, wanted just to take care of my two little girls, doing daycare was a necessary part of keeping a roof over our heads and food on the table. After they were grown, I stayed with it because it pays well and it was easy to just keep on keepin' on.

A couple of years ago, I talked to a friend who had started working at a school. She had been a stay at home mom for a decade and a half and she got a job because her husband was out of work and they needed health insurance. And it got me to thinking. If I had a school job...I could go on the spring break mission trips. I could go to the training at the county hospital and be a volunteer to rock the indigent babies in the nursery. I could have the summers off!

I filled out an online application last month. I went to the Job Fair screening interview last week. I got the call last night. They offered me a job. OH MY. I have a school job. It doesn't pay much, but I don't care. I don't need much. And the trade-off is so huge.

Now, instead of saying, "if", I'm saying, "I'm gonna!" Go on the mission trip to Colorado next spring, rock those babies and tell them Jesus loves them, help with Camp Elijah...

And, oh yeah, I'm going shopping for school clothes, too.

Happy Birthday, Cute Boy!

We had our first date exactly 2 months before his 22nd birthday. We got married exactly 2 months after his 23rd birthday. We thought we were such grownups. Looking back, we both looked like cradle robbers. But Browning got it right when he said, "Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be, the last of life for which the first was made: Our times are in His hand Who saith 'A whole I planned, Youth shows but half; trust God, see all, nor be afraid!'"

We talked this morning on the way to the worship service about the fact that it seems strange not to be young anymore. We used to feel strong and invincible. Now, most of the time, something on one or the other of us hurts. Everything is slower and weaker and grayer and wrinklier. But the journey from starry eyed youth to middle age to...what comes next is a sweeter trip when you have a companion who has been with you all the way. Our collective youth is in one shared heart. He still thinks I'm cute; I still think he's handsome.

So Happy Birthday to the love of my life, this year and for many more to come!

...and then there was MORE dancing...

I should have put something about dancing myself into a coma on my 101 list. Because once a month I do that. I did it tonight. Went to worship service this morning. We had practice for about 30 minutes before the service. Then we danced during the service for about 20 minutes. Then we have dance lessons in the afternoon for people who want to learn how to do it--2 hours long and after the lessons are over, the dance team practices Israeli dances just for fun--another half hour or so. Then in the evening, we have a fellowship called Chaverah--covered dish dinner followed by---did you guess? More dancing. Almost 2 more hours. When it was time to go home, I nearly had to crawl to the car on my hands and knees. I wish I'd had Kelli's pedometer on today. I feel like I logged about 26,951 steps--give or take a dance. Next month I'll have to borrow hers (or buy my own) to see how it adds up. Dance--it does a body good.