tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-224064712024-03-07T13:34:43.825-06:00Thinking it Through and Writing it DownThy Word is a lamp to my feet, and a light to my path.
Psalm 119:105khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00073121540393799267noreply@blogger.comBlogger59125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22406471.post-88095672851366934402008-11-04T19:31:00.002-06:002008-11-04T22:12:14.707-06:00The Halloween thing...I've pretty much come to the conclusion that blogging is not something that I'm going to do with any sort of regularity. I love to read my daughters' blogs, my nieces' blogs, and other friends' and family blogs. But I don't have whatever it takes--be it time, focus or interest--to sit down every day and turn the events of my life into the blog version of sound bites--crisp, concise, funny and readable.<br /><br /><br /><br />Once in a while, though, something grabs my attention in a really compelling way. I spend hours, or days, thinking it through, but not writing it down. A discussion yesterday with Blogging Daughter #1 kicked off a thought process that has filled my head so much that I actually have to write it down. This will take awhile, but here goes....<br /><br /><br /><br />The Halloween thing.... We pulled the plug on Halloween 25 years ago. We had been going to church and <em>really</em> seeking the Lord for about 3 years. I was attending a weekly women's Bible study; we were going to a couple's study on Wednesday nights. I wanted to know God, who He was, what He was like, what He wanted from me. And He is so completely faithful to respond to a searching heart, often in ways that you are totally unprepared for. When you read in your Bible, "Teach me your ways, O Lord, that I may walk in your truth..." and you ask Him to do that, He will shake your world.<br /><br /><br /><br />The elementary school that our daughters were attending did Halloween in a big way. The kids were allowed to wear their costumes to school, they had a big party in each classroom and, in the middle of the morning, there was a school wide parade. Every single classroom, from K-6, walked out of the building and around the big center courtyard. All the parents came and watched the classes march by, oohing and aahing, and snapping pictures. That particular year, I stood and watched those sweet little children walk by and my stomach turned. There were 5 year olds whose faces looked like an open grave. It was sickening. One of the little girls in our younger daughter's class had a mom whose parents had been make-up artists and that child was decked out as a truly disturbing witch. I had been increasingly uneasy about Halloween, but this year, one thought resonated through every cell in my body. "This does not honor the Lord".<br /><br /><br /><br />So we stopped. I really couldn't articulate well why I felt the way I did. That's all I could say--"This doesn't honor the Lord". And I was very well aware of how offensive that was to people who were still taking part in this holiday. It had only been a few years earlier that I had been huffy and offended at the suggestion that may be I shouldn't be doing this. When we pulled out, a lot of people told me that maybe Halloween had pagan origins, but that was then and this is now and there's candy and your kids don't want to be left out and, really, how ridiculous can you be to take the "ugly" part so seriously. But I knew we were done for good.<br /><br /><br /><br />I continued to study the Bible and nothing I learned in the following years made me think I had misjudged Halloween. But it wasn't until this year that I heard 3 separate teachings, at 3 different times, from 3 different sources that made it crystal clear to me just exactly WHY Halloween disgusts me so.<br /><br /><br /><br />Teacher #1 said "Have you ever wondered why God put us here, on this place, on the earth, when he knew good and well that this is where the enemy is? Didn't He know what kind of trouble could come from that?" And I totally agreed! Why here, Lord? Well, the answer to that is that rebellion didn't start in the Garden of Eden. It started in heaven, with Lucifer and a third of the angels being cast down. The battle started before we got here. And we are the army that has been put here to fight the war.<br /><br /><br /><br />Teacher #2 taught me that we have missed the deeper meaning of Genesis 2:15. "The Lord God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to <em>work it </em>and <em>take care of it.</em>" I don't know about you, but that has always sounded to me like the man was put there to be the gardener, to pick the roses and eat the fruit and...be there...and do stuff. Nothing earth shaking. But the words in Hebrew are powerful. The word that is translated "work it" is "avodah", which means "service" and "worship". Avodah--to serve God in worship, to worship God in service. The Garden of Eden was the worship center of the universe. And man was put there to worship. The Hebrew word that is translated "take care" is "shomer". Another powerful word. It means "guard". At the end of Chapter 3 when God banishes Adam and Eve from the Garden and the Cherubim with a flashing sword is posted there to "guard" the tree of life, it's the same word. (And the Cherubim are NOT pudgy little baby angels, either. Lucifer was a Cherub. But that's a whole 'nuther story). And God calls Himself the "guardian of Israel". Shomer. Not a small thing. Why would God give the instruction to guard the Garden unless there was something to guard it against? When Satan came to Eve in the Garden of Eden, he was sneaky and deceptive. He spoke to her and persuaded her to act on his words instead of believing God's words. And because she and Adam acted upon the lies of the enemy, they gave him their worship.<br /><br /><br /><br />I've always thought that darn ole Adam and Eve, if they'd chosen better, could've saved us a lot of trouble. The truth is the matter is that each person's heart is the Garden of Eden. It is our center of worship. We are to worship God by obedient actions and guard our hearts. Everything we think, say or do either gives worship to God, or it doesn't. And if our worship doesn't go to God, guess who is getting it.<br /><br /><br /><br />Teacher #3 also talked about worship. The whole point of our existance is worship. Everything the enemy throws at us is to for the purpose of getting our worship. The hard stuff that makes us abandon our faith, the gray areas that make us compromise, those niggling little thoughts of "Did God <em>really </em>say..." The only thing that makes the enemy feel like God is the worship of man. And he doesn't mind getting it through lies and deception.<br /><br /><br /><br />Which brings me back to Halloween. It is the conviction of my heart that a holiday where we have to ignore the fact that it is celebrated by Satanists and Wiccans is not a holiday that gives worship to God. Even if there is candy.<br /><br /><br /><br />There are several problems in putting it out there so bluntly. One is that we are not living in a time where we can actually say that some things are wrong. We tend to define "truth" in terms of "true for me". It's not very acceptable to say that someone's beliefs can be very sincere and still just be wrong. And the other thing is that we have not been very successful in raising a standard without condemning those who are not there yet. And that kind of judgment doesn't soften people's hearts. But I know that even when I got huffy and offended, the seed of truth was still planted in my heart by someone being willing to say, "Halloween is yucky". And I ended up being convicted by the power of God.<br /><br /><br /><br />So I'm willing to say that Halloween is wrong. Not because I think so, because it doesn't matter one iota what I think. It's wrong because it doesn't line up with the word of God. It doesn't give worship to God. I don't condemn anyone who is still there. But I pray that the Lord will bring His light into that darkness, just as He did for me.khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00073121540393799267noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22406471.post-51067841801910118502008-04-01T22:51:00.002-05:002008-04-01T23:21:25.072-05:00If I tell you, I'd have to kill you.That's a plagerized line from a movie (several movies, actually) but it pretty much covers everything I do. My job is one of the most intense, all-consuming things I have ever done in my life. And confidentiality is a huge issue. The first day on the job, I had to have a one-on-one training with a supervisor, which, in a nutshell, said "say nothing, anywhere, at any time, to anybody, about anything." There was a situation once where a teacher was at an outdoor carnival talking to someone about the details of what one of her students was doing. Someone overheard her, recognized the student, reported it, and the teacher got into a heap-o-trouble. So I can't get on here and say, "Oh, my gosh! The most hilarious-or-outlandish -or-unbelievable-- you-fill-in-the-blank-- thing happened today!" Can't say it, not nobody, not no how. (That's another movie quote, in case you were wondering. I'm still allowed to quote movies).<br /><br />The other thing is, holy cow, the documentation. I have to keep records and reports on EVERYTHING I do. No, I mean it. E.V.E.R.Y.T.H.I.N.G. So by the time, I could sit down and blog, even if I were allowed to tell what happened, I've already written it down 4 times and I'm sick of writing it down. I CAN say (well, maybe I can't, but I going to, anyway) that my job is, as I told several people last week, an endless source of surprises. Every week, someone says "oh, did we tell you that you're supposed to be doing________". Fill in the blank, generally with something very difficult or highly time consuming.<br /><br />And yet. I still have that sense that this is no accident, no "lucky" break, no random fluke. It's "for such a time as this" that I'm here. And even in the midst of moments of sheer terror, I remember that and am so grateful.khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00073121540393799267noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22406471.post-35956892466665151302008-01-18T08:42:00.000-06:002008-01-18T09:09:07.145-06:00Knock me over with a feather!!I got a call at school yesterday morning. The nice lady from the personnel office--to offer me the JOB I applied for back in December! I don't think I've ever been so flabbergasted in my whole life. After six weeks of hearing nothing, I had assumed that they had decided I wasn't what they were looking for. (I knew they hadn't filled the position with someone else, because the job is still listed on the district website.) She asked me if I needed time to think about it and I laughed out loud. Told her no, that I'd pretty much jump on it right this red hot second. The supervisor of the position and the principal of my current school will get together to decide when I can make the move. Holy cow, I am so excited and amazed (and terrified!) <br /><br />Because I'm a teacher now, the teacher I've been working with took me with her to a staff meeting yesterday afternoon to discuss a situation with one of our students. I sat around a table with our school principal, the vice-principal, the counselor, the diagnostician, the head of our department, the student's previous teacher, his current teacher, the district head of department, the district psychologist and the speech therapist while they all brainstormed the best way to meet the needs of this boy. It was an incredible experience {also terrifying :-)} Part of me thinks I'm in way over my head, and the other part realizes that the teacher is just the tip of the iceberg. There is a team of educators behind every teacher who stands in front of a class. And now 35+ years after getting my diploma, I'm part of the effort. Wow. Thank you, Lord.khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00073121540393799267noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22406471.post-46172060070662799372008-01-01T20:04:00.000-06:002008-01-01T20:20:23.516-06:00Happy New Year!I just have to start out the new year with a "Hey, ever'body!" It feels SO good to be done with 2007 (parts of it really stunk!) I'm believing 2008 to be WAY better :-)<br /><br />Today was really sweet--Birthday party at <a href="http://bugsonablog.blogspot.com/2008/01/two.html">CreamPuff's</a> House for CP and Firecracker. And I started the first day of <a href="http://www.biblein90days.com/about">this</a> Bible program. Someone very dear to me asked me to be accountable with her--we expect to have a wonderful encounter with the Lord.<br /><br />Life is good, y'all! The year is off to a great start, fun things to do and to look forward to doing, love my job, enjoy my days off, and the new diet starts...tomorrow...or the day after that... ;-)khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00073121540393799267noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22406471.post-68954512227739135412007-12-07T19:15:00.000-06:002007-12-07T19:22:57.025-06:00Hey, Girls! You won't believe this...I thought I'd just totally throw my daughters for a loop. They think I'm pretty predictable (probably because I am!) and I can guarantee you that the LAST thing in this world that they think I would do is take the Harry Potter personality quiz. So I did it---and I'm Harry Potter! Pretty hilarious, if you want to know the truth :-)<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://piratemonkeysinc.com/quiz.php"><img src="http://piratemonkeysinc.com/images/ISFP.gif" width=275 height=250 border=0 alt="Pirate Monkey's Harry Potter Personality Quiz"><br>Harry Potter Personality Quiz</a> by <a href="http://piratemonkeysinc.com">Pirate Monkeys Inc.</a>khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00073121540393799267noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22406471.post-21671596360531396672007-12-02T13:54:00.000-06:002007-12-02T14:16:52.030-06:00The reality is......that the writing does not come quickly or easily and that I am so busy living my life, I don't have time to document it. So much has happened in the last few months that, as Inego Montoya says in "The Princess Bride"..."I just sum up".<br /><br />I didn't get the job back in September, but they hired a <span style="font-style: italic;">wonderful</span> teacher to come into our class. I have so enjoyed working with her, watching her style, picking her brains and getting more experience. The whole month of September I studied and studied and studied and in early October, I took the certification test for Special Ed. Had to wait a month for the results and was very pleased to find out that I passed. I figured I would need to finish out my year as an aide, but when I went to a workshop to learn how to write the TAKS-Alt tests, the teacher (who is the supervisor for Spec Ed for the entire district) told me in no uncertain terms that I should apply NOW. They have openings now and there is no competition for these positions. (And the aide positions are easier to fill, so they don't consider that a big deal.) So I scrambled around and got all my forms filled out and the letter of intent written and the resume updated and sent off and ...waited. Then I got an email saying that they DO want to talk to me! SO excited! That is big progress from last time. So I get to sit down next week with 3 Ph. D department heads/supervisors and strut my stuff :-) I'm so excited that it's a little hard to focus on anything else.<br /><br />And as if that all by itself is not enough to totally absorb all my energy, attention, and time, I'm also studying for my Hebrew exam, getting settled in our new apartment and getting ready for the holidays. <br /><br />So that's why I haven't written since September. (But this one's for you, Cathy!)<span style="font-style: italic;"></span>khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00073121540393799267noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22406471.post-71034696326746810482007-09-21T06:42:00.001-05:002007-09-21T06:55:34.435-05:00Thankful Thursday--on FridayI filled out the application for the opening in our classroom and put it in the L-rd's hands as to what would happen. And I found out very quickly. The Asst. Principle stopped me in the hall as I was leaving school yesterday afternoon and told me that they had pulled my file and looked at it and that I wasn't far enough along in the process of getting certified for them to consider me as a candidate for this particular job. I have to admit that I'm a little disappointed. But mostly that is because we could <span style="font-style: italic;">really</span> use the money. As for the job itself, there's a lot to it and the learning curve would be all consuming. So I'm thankful that I can trust the L-rd to protect me from getting in over my head. Now I have a year to study and learn in this class before I take the plunge.<br /><br />And I'm thankful to have a <a href="http://gillysmama.blogspot.com/2007/09/because-its-funny-so-im-telling.html">daughter</a> who sees the humor in the small things of life. :-)khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00073121540393799267noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22406471.post-62941384733819857482007-09-05T20:56:00.000-05:002007-09-14T17:18:44.886-05:00Turn in the RoadThe past two weeks, my life has not been cute little sound bites that make for quick, easy, funny (SHORT) posts. I have been through an intensive, week-long orientation to the building, the staff, and the procedures at my new school. That, in itself, was pretty tiring. There were two nights that week that I got in bed around 9:30 and slept all the way through the night til the alarm went off (<span style="font-style: italic;">very</span> unusual for me!) Then the next week the kids came. And what an amazing, exhausting, exhilarating experience that has been!<br /><br />I thought that this brand new job would be a totally new experience with a pretty big learning curve. In some ways it is. But, at its very most elemental, it is very similar to much of what I have done for the last two decades. (The biggest surprise to me is that virtually all of what we do is confidential--even to the point that we are not allowed to tell anyone, including the parents of the other students IN the class, who any of the students are. I can't even talk about them in public in case someone in the general vicinity might overhear and recognize who I'm discussing. So anything I share about the actual work will always have to be very vague and generic.)<br /><br />Because this class has turned out to be much bigger than is reasonably manageable by one teacher, there has been talk from day one of adding another teacher for this bunch. Much to my surprise, I very much want the job! Since I'm already certified in another field, all I would have to do is take a test in this subject. I could even be given emergency certification and have a year to get all the requirements met. Two weeks ago, I would've sworn with my last breath that there was no way I'd be willing to put up with all the aggravation that comes with classroom teaching. And now, I'd jump through any hoop they hold up to get a chance to work with these kids. I totally trust the Lord to put the right person in our classroom.. So I'll be perfectly happy if they hire another teacher and I finish the year as the aide. And I'll be (extra!) perfectly happy if they, um, choose me. I've signed up to take the test next month so that either way, next year I'll be looking to hire in as the <span style="font-style: italic;">teacher</span>. What an amazing development!<br /><br />And that's just <span style="font-style: italic;">one</span> unexpected turn in the road. There are others, but the time is not right yet for talking about them. There is a Chinese proverb that says, "May you live in interesting times." We do.khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00073121540393799267noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22406471.post-89631044839288262572007-08-17T09:55:00.000-05:002007-08-18T14:58:36.027-05:00LiftoffLast Thursday was my last day of doing home daycare. Friday morning, on our 36th wedding anniversary, my sweet hubby and I got up bright and early and jumped on an airplane to South Carolina. We had big fun, shopping and fishing, and flew home Wednesday. I got up bright and early Thursday morning for an orientation day at my actual school and then spent the rest of the day unpacking and cleaning up our room. And then last night, Hubby asked what time I wanted to get this morning and I realized that THIS is the moment that my new life begins. I do NOT have to get up bright and early, because I don't have to go to work today. Anywhere. For any reason.<br /><br />It's like that moment on the plane ride to and from SC. The plane is roaring down the runway and then there's that bump and you feel the instant you are airborne. You know for sure that you are not on the ground anymore; you are in a different dimension. Liftoff.<br /><br />I'm going shopping.khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00073121540393799267noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22406471.post-79824238574876575752007-08-16T06:30:00.000-05:002007-08-16T07:07:05.689-05:00Thankful Thursday<center><a href="http://www.eph2810.com/?page_id=459" ><img border="0" src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y140/eph2810/TTButton.jpg" /></a></center><br /><br /><blockquote>Yours, O Lord, is the greatness and the power and the glory and the majesty and the splendor, for everything in heaven and earth is yours. I Chronicles 29:11 <br /></blockquote><br />I am so thankful, not only to have had a wonderful time with our family in South Carolina, but to have been able to go to the beach early on Sunday morning. The guys fished and I just sat there near the water and had my quiet time. The sound of the waves and the breeze off the ocean were such powerful, yet gentle reminders of the awesome sovereignty of God. <br /><br />And oh my! Thankful! Today is the first in-service day for my new job as a special ed bridging aide. I'll learn where everything is and what we're all about doing and meet some of the people I'll be working with. That old slogan "Today is the first day of the rest of your life" takes on new meaning right now. Such a BIG new beginning!khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00073121540393799267noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22406471.post-91742429952784123112007-08-15T22:14:00.000-05:002007-08-15T22:31:18.002-05:00Wordless Wednesday<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOqLpzmk6WN6LjJ_yztxraTWAl0RrpCRYjJySnsrJEsJfLQn-JenQ-f3R_SQYQuzEyKgGsEKtix3LezJQhXC_MhRn0p45NgPufC95ScM6C-h1zGQ5dmCqx-RgETSy2muxOIefsLQ/s1600-h/IMG_0115.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOqLpzmk6WN6LjJ_yztxraTWAl0RrpCRYjJySnsrJEsJfLQn-JenQ-f3R_SQYQuzEyKgGsEKtix3LezJQhXC_MhRn0p45NgPufC95ScM6C-h1zGQ5dmCqx-RgETSy2muxOIefsLQ/s320/IMG_0115.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099135031293446290" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV9dvLEw_iFrRoUcLXYmg8gmFZF6UUz5pGCJxXukye2RZrhHdJ4BdLrOoaw6GC7yWpvyLr5fNihFXTlAsjq0u9tGNQua11vj1MO2zC0hakKoin2j7pu517CAfalseTSiUcifDgEg/s1600-h/IMG_0124.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV9dvLEw_iFrRoUcLXYmg8gmFZF6UUz5pGCJxXukye2RZrhHdJ4BdLrOoaw6GC7yWpvyLr5fNihFXTlAsjq0u9tGNQua11vj1MO2zC0hakKoin2j7pu517CAfalseTSiUcifDgEg/s320/IMG_0124.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099135555279456450" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCaSdWjR-TyjZTE21mrNAKVmpouBILv0HMaabWa6VuksF8li7R3WzF4nyE_bw7xTvrD1irgVdNulYYkhTCyPZGyAeAgInmztv-cE3Fl9L5bUD6e9yggCgeK8Ng1nK3L5dEN892RA/s1600-h/IMG_0118.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCaSdWjR-TyjZTE21mrNAKVmpouBILv0HMaabWa6VuksF8li7R3WzF4nyE_bw7xTvrD1irgVdNulYYkhTCyPZGyAeAgInmztv-cE3Fl9L5bUD6e9yggCgeK8Ng1nK3L5dEN892RA/s320/IMG_0118.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099135353415993522" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit9MaJe7tZZ6DjxmRA3hyCNXPNfDR0t7FBfe9v3s8S7VHY9ay5qVLiB1nYPzK3okDQEy_kEDsu7s7mWw2LUH3Y-zP5FRdBzg7s3-nrgaJpajZKqiRbT2-zS539KFep0xBwDWGmXg/s1600-h/IMG_0119.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit9MaJe7tZZ6DjxmRA3hyCNXPNfDR0t7FBfe9v3s8S7VHY9ay5qVLiB1nYPzK3okDQEy_kEDsu7s7mWw2LUH3Y-zP5FRdBzg7s3-nrgaJpajZKqiRbT2-zS539KFep0xBwDWGmXg/s320/IMG_0119.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099135194502203554" border="0" /></a>khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00073121540393799267noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22406471.post-76761116783717775312007-08-11T14:28:00.000-05:002007-08-11T14:49:25.200-05:00V-A-C-A-T-I-O-N in the summertime :-)Oh, my yes, here we are in balmy South Carolina, breathing in the salt sea air. (Well, not really, but I could if I were willing to go out into the nasty humid South Carolina heat--which I'm not). But we're here being lazy (guess who didn't get out of bed til 10:30) and just generally enjoying the whole vacation mindset.<br /><div><div> </div><div>Thursday was my very last day of daycare and even then, I left for 2 hours for a "meet-and-greet" with my principal which, delightfully, turned into an hour meeting with the teacher I'm going to be working with. I'm beginning to get a sense of what I'll be doing when school starts. And I know the names of some of my students, so now I can pray for them, individually, by name. I'm totally amazed at how my experiences all these years--4 years as a Girl Scout leader, 22 years of home daycare and all those years of childrearing--have prepared me for this job. I'm really getting excited! </div><br /><div>And just to make this post worth looking at, here are the pictures I took the morning I left. I wanted to have something fresh to show Mom and Dad and, without thinking, I had emptied my camera the night before. So this was the best I could do for them, but it's not half bad, don't you think? :-)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihVD9EkfGpSgUBU0PgdwW_3m3fXldyQ5O8MrVe2q1zNsefZxM1Gs_j1hE5mcJP22cBXtEhX00Z4ao3FwSSPLAkDZiKecMBBMEs9IO7U9acw3EsvPQDBf_krNI14yFyR50cEI6PlA/s1600-h/Parker+kids+013.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097530898689117186" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihVD9EkfGpSgUBU0PgdwW_3m3fXldyQ5O8MrVe2q1zNsefZxM1Gs_j1hE5mcJP22cBXtEhX00Z4ao3FwSSPLAkDZiKecMBBMEs9IO7U9acw3EsvPQDBf_krNI14yFyR50cEI6PlA/s320/Parker+kids+013.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX4q8oKMPMB93wRsg32WAm3b42HiWmQXtzym0INfMAeIl2bHL-9YYAN63vsk_-y14TYZrtMWAeAS_cZzkD8f1oGV_DPRdTt36lwQBi2rquWvGVpQSpd2v8n_HaX1tXLOzAvFGQKQ/s1600-h/Parker+kids+001.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097531263761337362" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX4q8oKMPMB93wRsg32WAm3b42HiWmQXtzym0INfMAeIl2bHL-9YYAN63vsk_-y14TYZrtMWAeAS_cZzkD8f1oGV_DPRdTt36lwQBi2rquWvGVpQSpd2v8n_HaX1tXLOzAvFGQKQ/s320/Parker+kids+001.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div>So, KatieBug, email us some good pictures while I'm here so I can add them to Grandma's file.</div></div>khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00073121540393799267noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22406471.post-81400356697006179242007-08-09T22:28:00.000-05:002007-08-11T14:28:28.270-05:00Thankful Thursday<center><a href="http://www.eph2810.com/?page_id=459"><img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y140/eph2810/TTButton.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left">I found this link the other day and just love the idea. I don't know whether it is supposed to be like a Thursday Thirteen, but tonight I'm pressed for time and I just have one big "thankful" on my mind right now.<br /><br />I am SO thankful to live in a place and time where women are allowed to be educated. In other parts of the world, RIGHT NOW, that blessing is routinely denied to females. And in other eras, education for women was universally believed to be a waste of time.<br /><br />I was the kind of kid who got in trouble at least once in every year of elementary school for bouncing up and down in my seat, frantically waving my hand to be called on and then blurting out the answer. I loved the process of learning.<br /><br />And now, over forty years later, I'm so blessed to have the privilege of taking Hebrew classes. My teacher is a woman. Over half the students in the class are female. I don't yell out the answers anymore, but school is just as much fun as it ever was.<br /><br />The authors of our textbook think it's fun, too. One of my homework assignments was to read aloud several sentences of Hebrew. I wish my computer had a font for the Hebrew letters so you could see what it looked like. And I wish you could have heard me stumble through this--sounding just exactly like a first grader who has to sound out every word. My lesson said,<br /><br /><blockquote>"See Betty eat. Eat, Betty, eat. See Betty eat quiche. Eat quiche, Betty, eat quiche. See Bab eat Betty's quiche. See Betty beat Bab."</blockquote><br />My husband and daughter were in hysterics as I read to them. And so was I. What fun!<br /><br /><br /><br /></div></center>khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00073121540393799267noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22406471.post-62648022266631014312007-08-07T17:48:00.000-05:002007-08-07T22:15:00.093-05:00TGIFHave you heard the story about the mama who always gave her little girl ice cream after lunch for dessert ? One day she checked the kitchen freezer, and the ice cream had all been eaten. So she was going to have to go down to the big freezer in the basement. But little Janie wanted her ice cream right away, like usual, and started banging her spoon on her high chair tray and screaming, "ICE CREAM! ICE CREAM!" Mama said, "Be patient, Janie" and went downstairs. When she got back, Janie was stiff as a board in her high chair, eyes scrunched shut, cheeks puffed out, face all red, not breathing. Mama rushed to her side, dropping the ice cream carton on the floor, and began frantically trying to revive her daughter as she cried, "Janie, Janie, what's wrong!?" At that, the little girl opened her eyes, took a deep breath and explained, "I'm having patience."<br /><br />Right now, I'm having me some patience. I have 2--count them--2 more days of doing daycare. (It was supposed to be 3, but it was out of my control that we got booked on a Friday morning flight out of here instead of an evening flight, like I asked for. But that is neither here nor there.) The hard part is not in working 2 more days. I have loved my job and the families that I'm working with are sweet people and I'm blessed that I will continue to have contact with them. The hard part is in not <span style="font-style: italic;">saying</span>, "I ONLY HAVE TWO MORE DAYS!!" I have not done the countdown thing. I have not said I only have 8 more, 7 more, 6 more, 5 more...well you get the picture. I have not told a screaming toddler that I only have to listen to this nonsense for X MORE DAYS. I've stayed in the moment as much as is humanly possible. But people, I have 2 MORE DAYS left til I finish a job that I've been doing for 24 years. I'm almost done.<br /><br />And Friday is looking really good to me.khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00073121540393799267noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22406471.post-38464878601992409872007-08-06T13:14:00.000-05:002007-08-06T15:42:58.417-05:00It's not my agenda anymoreWhen I made my <a href="http://supergrammie.blogspot.com/2007/05/101-things-in-1001-days.html">101 Goals </a>in 1001 days, the first thing I put on my list (after making the list itself) is to read the Bible straight through, cover to cover. In my own special, hyperfocused, one-track minded way, I was thinking I would need to figure out how many chapters there are and how many days there are and how much I would have to read each day to <em>get it done in the time allotted!</em><br /><br />But a funny thing happened. I kept getting "bogged down." I'd be reading along, and a verse would grab my attention. And I'd just have to search out more about it. Read a commentary or look up the other verses with the interesting word or check out the Hebrew. And I'd be so busy doing something extra that I didn't have time to finish enough chapters. The next day, it would happen again. And yet again. I was not getting the job done!<br /><br />It finally dawned on my rock brain that <em>This </em>was the point. Not to rush through the words, but to let the Spirit set the pace and the agenda. So even though "Read the Bible cover to cover" is still on my 1001 day list, how long it's really going to take is totally out of my hands.<br /><br />This is what the Lord showed me a few days ago. I'm in Numbers right now, the 40 years in the wilderness book. I can remember reading these stories when I was a kid in Sunday School and VBS. And I can remember thinking what<em> jerks</em> the Israelites were. If <em>I</em> had seen God send the plagues to smite Egypt, if <em>I </em>had seen God part the Red Sea, if <em>I </em>had been promised the land flowing with milk and honey, well now, <em>I</em> would've been the bravest of the brave, the most faithful, the most trusting, the most believing. Honey, my bones would not be bleaching out in the desert, 'cause I would've been marching right alongside Joshua and Caleb to claim my inheritance. Can anybody relate?<br /><br />I had similar misconceptions about the story of Balaam. Balaam asked God if he could go and get paid for cursing God's people. God had already said over and over and over that these people were His people and that whoever blessed His people would be blessed and whoever cursed His people would be cursed. So when Balaam asked for permission to curse them, God said no. Balaam asked again and this time, God said yes. So Balaam went and God was angry. Made no sense to me. That seemed to be one of those situations that cause people to say that the Bible contradicts itself. Why would God say yes and then get mad? What's up with that?!<br /><br />And then I began to see exactly what's up with that. How many issues are there in my life and in the culture around me where the Lord has clearly stated over and over again what His standards are and yet I/we want to live as though He hasn't said a word about any of it. Please, Lord, Please Please Please! So He stands back and says, "Go ahead!" That's not permission and blessing. That's giving us enough rope to hang ourselves. When things go south, as they always will when we live in violation of his Word, then we're like Balaam. We say, "<em>IF </em>you displeased..." uh, we'll do something else? Much to my shock, there I am again. One of those clueless people. Wandering out in the wilderness with no idea how I got there.<br /><br />What joy and comfort and security to know that I belong to the One who calls me back when I get off track. Who knows that my righteousness is as filthy rags--so He gives me His own. And what a pleasure it is to find this reassurance tucked into the stories of the people whose promises we are allowed to share.khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00073121540393799267noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22406471.post-86447074690224243532007-08-05T21:31:00.000-05:002007-08-06T15:44:50.797-05:00Lovin' on my boysDH and I went over this afternoon to visit with the <a href="http://bugsonablog.blogspot.com/">Bug family</a>. When it got close to going home time, I read the kids a story. When we were done, the boys were playing right near me. I reached over and put my arms around Firecracker and started whispering in his ear, "I love you. I love you. I love you" I said it very quietly and slowly over and over. After about 15 repetitions, he grinned hugely and said, "I love you, too!" And we giggled for a minute while I kissed his neck.<br /><br />Then I grabbed Bubby and started the same routine. "I love you, I love you, I love you" whispered against his check. He let it go for awhile, then he pulled away and with a pleasant look on his face but with a very serious, no-nonsense tone in his voice (like you would use on a 2 year old who had asked for ice cream one too many times), he said, "OK. That's <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">enough.</span>"<br /><br />KatieBug and I fell out, shrieking with laughter. Bubby was quite pleased to have been so funny, even though he wasn't exactly sure what he had done that was so hilarious. Somehow, though, I have a feeling that it'll be a cold day in a hot place before I get an "I love you, too" out of that boy.khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00073121540393799267noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22406471.post-31377103162177636582007-08-02T21:41:00.000-05:002007-08-02T21:45:05.729-05:00How's it coming?Well, I know I'm supposed to be modest and let someone else say, "OH, this is nice!" But I spent all day picking a picture and getting it put in and I love that Scripture and I found several other cute things that I plan to add as soon as I can. (Being the queen of slow has its disadvantages.) So I'm pleased with my small beginning. And the Bible says we are not to despise small beginnings, so there you are.khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00073121540393799267noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22406471.post-36604800860850247952007-08-02T11:06:00.000-05:002007-08-02T21:27:47.841-05:00I Want A New LookI'm tired of being boring. I've been reading a lot more blogs lately because of things the girls have linked to. And I want more focus...and some bling. I'm not sure what to do about it, but I'm open to finding out. It's interesting to read some of the blogs whose writers have a very clear focus in what their purpose is. I started out being vague and random and haven't wandered very far from my humble beginnings. I'm getting ready to move into a new season and lots of things in my life are changing. I think this blog should be one of them.khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00073121540393799267noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22406471.post-31164589900871973652007-07-31T19:20:00.000-05:002007-07-31T19:51:22.924-05:00Let's just run her legs off :-)While Mama and Daddy have been partying in Vegas, we've been playing with the kids. And to keep little miss from bogging down in the pity party of "I miss my mama and daddy", we've kept her moving. Bike riding, running in the rain, an evening trip to Wendy's for a vanilla frosty. And today her GiGi came in from the farm and picked her and her cousins up for an afternoon at Planet Pizza. They were gone for over 4 hours and when she came home, the girl had--to quote me old mother--"cross marks for eyes". That is to say, really t.i.r.e.d. She asked to watch the movie I keep for her in our Tivo. I turned it on, left the room for a second and when I came back, she was stone cold unconscious on my bed. I figured, at that point, that my evening was up for grabs. This girl HATES to be waked up. So my choices looked like, wake her up before she slept too long and hope that she wouldn't cry too long and would then be willing to go back to sleep before midnight. Or let her sleep til she woke up and hope she didn't wake up at midnight ready to stay awake all night. Thankfully, her folks called early for the nightly iChat because they have dinner and a show. So I woke her up for mama and daddy and she was groggy but cooperative. Then she wanted her picture taken with her brother, so here they are. Aren't they just so fine. Hi again, Mom and Dad! See you tomorrow!<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI10CZJaIxHeDBCeQBC0D2OLl2HKpLQvk5Zk89Fj2mEc80Led9yCC2qSPKLukExVlOVC-qnBnXNwiwDXt1Vwt1Xh2Y8QIFR3GSavjobej_ChJ_69APPGDyg3YpYMbqUfzoDQM5Zw/s1600-h/IMG_0402.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI10CZJaIxHeDBCeQBC0D2OLl2HKpLQvk5Zk89Fj2mEc80Led9yCC2qSPKLukExVlOVC-qnBnXNwiwDXt1Vwt1Xh2Y8QIFR3GSavjobej_ChJ_69APPGDyg3YpYMbqUfzoDQM5Zw/s320/IMG_0402.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093527486658071426" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivAbXmh7xekOuuk8Ywcvh9n2C28wWy-hDSM1LqhhHxm4HEGrX7njVY4FunzptyizLzX6v21eH3XUeAcjJI_uWdv2Gpc5idOWFnF96ysM_HhkjHqes5-Qkn1bb2RrC58pcvREOGLg/s1600-h/IMG_0403.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivAbXmh7xekOuuk8Ywcvh9n2C28wWy-hDSM1LqhhHxm4HEGrX7njVY4FunzptyizLzX6v21eH3XUeAcjJI_uWdv2Gpc5idOWFnF96ysM_HhkjHqes5-Qkn1bb2RrC58pcvREOGLg/s320/IMG_0403.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093527976284343202" border="0" /></a>khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00073121540393799267noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22406471.post-21251641961456212912007-07-30T07:34:00.000-05:002007-07-30T09:48:12.585-05:00Hi, Mama & Daddy! Love, G & LWell, as you know, because you read <a href="http://gillysmama.blogspot.com/">my daughter's blog</a>, she and Cletus are in Las Vegas right now on a much looked forward to, much needed (and oh, by the way, never had a honeymoon!) trip. Which means that DH and I have the kids to ourselves on the home front.<br /><br />There was some concern that Gilly might have a bit of a hard time letting her parents go. (She told me quite firmly, one day last week, that mamas were <span style="font-style: italic;">not</span> supposed to leave their little girls!) So I was all prepared to do the "sing and dance and aren't we having fun!" routine at the drop of a hat.<br /><br />Yesterday afternoon, she wanted to go out in the backyard for a little while and noticed her bike sitting on the patio. So we left her papa at home to be with Baby Luke and she and I hit the sidewalks for a big bike ride. I was quite impressed with her endurance. Riding a bike uses different muscles than walking and she really had to work hard in the areas that went uphill a little bit. Every time we got to a corner where we could take the short way home, she said she wanted to ride more. So at every corner we took the long way.<br /><br />I was watching it get darker and darker to the east of us, and then when we were about 2 blocks from home, the wind picked up and the temperature began to drop noticeably. Just as I opened my mouth to tell her that we'd better head home because we might get some rain, I felt a splat--about the size of a silver dollar--on my back. And the skies opened. I yelled at her to hold her feet away from the pedals, that we were going to make a run for it. She stuck her legs straight out and I hunch over this little tiny bicycle and we ran down the street, laughing like maniacs. And it rained like it can only in Texas, from nothing to cloudburst in just seconds. By the time we got home, which wasn't more than just a few minutes, we were both soaked to the skin. I had raindrops dripping off my eyelashes and mascara running down my face. But it was so much fun and the rain changed an ordinary bike ride into something we will both always remember.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSeuk-pIj_kNM6Z-C-cUSW1yssxqtpHOipyQxx1wUb9d0GmSVojsXYY1uHPQZQgmW7s6GiV2SMsZOcCpjprq8VWQqmilKPXGUCgVD-87gzFJLxsVPVz1bwX3_lZ1g5Hqvik0b0rw/s1600-h/IMG_0398.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSeuk-pIj_kNM6Z-C-cUSW1yssxqtpHOipyQxx1wUb9d0GmSVojsXYY1uHPQZQgmW7s6GiV2SMsZOcCpjprq8VWQqmilKPXGUCgVD-87gzFJLxsVPVz1bwX3_lZ1g5Hqvik0b0rw/s320/IMG_0398.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092996555685841730" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQOCg6nTtn6eCofPBYdKk0r0T6UnJ9oBb1BWr7VzqManH8SmQRc582MLC8nKtsegSjPIz5K7sKRds5rKWo-bCgIKz6XEC8fun_tGKOwm4dexZffxIJZI_dsLbhJLTi7r0hOxGhVw/s1600-h/IMG_0397.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQOCg6nTtn6eCofPBYdKk0r0T6UnJ9oBb1BWr7VzqManH8SmQRc582MLC8nKtsegSjPIz5K7sKRds5rKWo-bCgIKz6XEC8fun_tGKOwm4dexZffxIJZI_dsLbhJLTi7r0hOxGhVw/s320/IMG_0397.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092996422541855538" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />And, oh that sweet baby, he went to bed about 10:00 and didn't wake up til 6:00. Gilly didn't go to bed til 11 and I didn't climb in til close to 12, but then we all got to sleep til morning. A GOOD first day! And we all woke up cheerful and rested.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEwk8c7hJtUhULZDeQm8zQR8ypTWGVXAe1mtUNLe1Y5NtRquif9hY1AoAkeCmUKSPAVml_h3i27qfiwKW8yQ5C0n_9x_pPZGSS2AY7tTWIvVOtmbYXC_eDGdR5GPkUFuJnI7GdTg/s1600-h/IMG_0400.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEwk8c7hJtUhULZDeQm8zQR8ypTWGVXAe1mtUNLe1Y5NtRquif9hY1AoAkeCmUKSPAVml_h3i27qfiwKW8yQ5C0n_9x_pPZGSS2AY7tTWIvVOtmbYXC_eDGdR5GPkUFuJnI7GdTg/s320/IMG_0400.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092996933642963794" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />So, have a good time in Vegas, Mama and Daddy! We love you and miss you, but we're doing just fine :-)khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00073121540393799267noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22406471.post-21666252102188948072007-07-21T21:29:00.000-05:002007-07-21T22:56:33.574-05:00Bliss!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju8_1izfcWY-dE6whAJO0Fc9zbUwmKNPOByhcSuyGv3wvQjExF_brqdDzcDBfgC4mIO8cKCZUEJpxyBmJLGRxOYRO-Wx7i259qllLVIza23-otr6DHZ_CH1Wbg5-RI14F57zTKIw/s1600-h/IMG_0250.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju8_1izfcWY-dE6whAJO0Fc9zbUwmKNPOByhcSuyGv3wvQjExF_brqdDzcDBfgC4mIO8cKCZUEJpxyBmJLGRxOYRO-Wx7i259qllLVIza23-otr6DHZ_CH1Wbg5-RI14F57zTKIw/s320/IMG_0250.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5089843942316395154" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />I'm the happiest grandmother on the face of the planet. All of my grandkids (and there are 5 of them, and they are STINKIN' CUTE!) live close to us. Last night we went to spend the night with the 3 we don't live with, so that their mama could go out with friends. (Daddy works nights). We had such a great time with our sweeties. I fed them GF cookies and rice pudding for bedtime snack. And I asked CreamPuff, "Whatcha eatin' there, girlfriend?" So she showed me :-)<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5-sch122xa7s0862m-OA5jJ0YWAFq5N39wY6Hxh14PhgRUqt0YVB2OI3ieBdfhHyG6b75ak8RQgLtTSLtFLyNTKgwNVgf6pxpCzbsO72tJ4AEc3yLiM_BGKtxuG-e5LCJv5GAXA/s1600-h/IMG_0258.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5-sch122xa7s0862m-OA5jJ0YWAFq5N39wY6Hxh14PhgRUqt0YVB2OI3ieBdfhHyG6b75ak8RQgLtTSLtFLyNTKgwNVgf6pxpCzbsO72tJ4AEc3yLiM_BGKtxuG-e5LCJv5GAXA/s320/IMG_0258.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5089863256784325410" border="0" /></a>We spent the night because Mom and Dad were going to be home so very late. This morning, I was deeply. DEEPLY asleep and I felt little fingers poking me in the shoulder. With every ounce of energy in my sleep drugged body, I dragged my eyes open, and there was the grinning face of a grandson one quarter inch from each of my bloodshot eyeballs. And they said, "Grammie, it's time for you to get up now!" And God bless 'em, I love 'em so much that I didn't kill 'em. I just lay there and woke up slowly and then took pictures of them being goofy with their Papa C.<br /><br /><br /><br />And in the afternoon there was a <a href="http://bugsonablog.blogspot.com/2007/07/big-weekend.html">birthday party</a> at a jumping place for a little boy who was so happy to be one year older. You wouldn't know it by the pictures I took, but there were about 30 kids there. I took pictures of my own <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6gowmtjPpZigY7f0baXijgFmGGaXO_qUNTRKkvJvDwCOx7X2dq0tsFsQJZ4v3MUi7s8xh7vJCZXNlAVyk38hWACnGNeoMfAFEGMu5pzAyLmDrEebZCWoTDsCsZSvgkEjwLNLPIQ/s1600-h/IMG_0316.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6gowmtjPpZigY7f0baXijgFmGGaXO_qUNTRKkvJvDwCOx7X2dq0tsFsQJZ4v3MUi7s8xh7vJCZXNlAVyk38hWACnGNeoMfAFEGMu5pzAyLmDrEebZCWoTDsCsZSvgkEjwLNLPIQ/s320/IMG_0316.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5089852403401968354" border="0" /></a>kids and here they are.<br /><br /><br />Gilly really got into the jumping cage. Most of the pictures I got of here were in here.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I didn't get many picture of Birthday Bubby because he was having too much fun to stand still for dumb old photo shots. And Luke showed off a brand new skill--sitting by himself for the very first time.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihDVTfsLs8s2v6HZpvXYvGRGU-3Z6-VslJ7joqZtiwXGFvyOtDmpFA7eqIy5ZiQOZOwFGvgWYHs3p-uj5XUWQBKw9lvNFR-X7sM3xL_VyzrQcEvDAzX9WYcJK8t1npxhIABvWhuw/s1600-h/IMG_0292.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihDVTfsLs8s2v6HZpvXYvGRGU-3Z6-VslJ7joqZtiwXGFvyOtDmpFA7eqIy5ZiQOZOwFGvgWYHs3p-uj5XUWQBKw9lvNFR-X7sM3xL_VyzrQcEvDAzX9WYcJK8t1npxhIABvWhuw/s320/IMG_0292.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5089851686142429890" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZv6vJhIf1-gZPMOVMEiIq7keWy8t6LbXjy77kF-_wdOHSp4DDUdDk0hr9olyrkXoyjlUTDQuwhnHBFuT95NpbUGom2BeX5y3gNMyF6ruMTd0H5A7xCgA8aarGjZ6L7pjYUUiQ-w/s1600-h/IMG_0319.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZv6vJhIf1-gZPMOVMEiIq7keWy8t6LbXjy77kF-_wdOHSp4DDUdDk0hr9olyrkXoyjlUTDQuwhnHBFuT95NpbUGom2BeX5y3gNMyF6ruMTd0H5A7xCgA8aarGjZ6L7pjYUUiQ-w/s320/IMG_0319.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5089855289619991298" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />CreamPuff and Daddy go down the big slide. <br /><br />The whole shindig was SO MUCH FUN!!<br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8HJEtPglD1uboPik9oA4aRggKE8MFpzQNjQpYM5KrKEwfKByxH2BlkGvWpm9ZH-bIyQn-k625vJ6dRH1oj0XRTEGH-N9u0TKsGykeFDGh1gTCFzvPIlAZUc09g41pN3NQfx_64Q/s1600-h/IMG_0338.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 231px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8HJEtPglD1uboPik9oA4aRggKE8MFpzQNjQpYM5KrKEwfKByxH2BlkGvWpm9ZH-bIyQn-k625vJ6dRH1oj0XRTEGH-N9u0TKsGykeFDGh1gTCFzvPIlAZUc09g41pN3NQfx_64Q/s320/IMG_0338.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5089852656805038834" border="0" /></a></div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-z1refXPdZFMbR1nO33aPhNumvgtR-XbtJ1tPTGGIDVFErC2bt7HpteanTTCBrUdMkbYOj8vihFOG6w-0X-j6ZdI7IDuheyfrMb8XSK-Gvuet8YKZ0WOWNdk_sZcO_bQaFXjiOw/s1600-h/IMG_0296.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-z1refXPdZFMbR1nO33aPhNumvgtR-XbtJ1tPTGGIDVFErC2bt7HpteanTTCBrUdMkbYOj8vihFOG6w-0X-j6ZdI7IDuheyfrMb8XSK-Gvuet8YKZ0WOWNdk_sZcO_bQaFXjiOw/s320/IMG_0296.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5089848391902513842" border="0" /></a>khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00073121540393799267noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22406471.post-91119400038091520152007-07-03T14:39:00.001-05:002007-07-21T21:29:06.179-05:00Life loopsHave you ever had one of those unexpected moments when you meet up with someone or go somewhere and realize that there is a major connection to your past? My dance team went to a multi-cultural extravaganza in Garland last weekend to contribute some really cool Israeli/Messianic dances. The streets were closed around where the festival was being held, so we parked a few blocks away and walked to the dance site. We came around the corner and walked straight into the building. There were pictures on the walls of the way the town square had looked back in the olden days and I realized HOLY COW! The civic center used to be the Plaza Theater! My mama walked me to this very theater when I was about 5 years old to see Walt Disney's Cinderella. Just the two of us. And she bought me a great big huge lollipop. It's the first movie I ever remember seeing. We walked <span style="font-style: italic;">forever</span> to get there. (I googled it when I got home and found out that we lived 1.25 miles from the theater in those days, which is a pretty good hike for a little kid.) And on the corner of the square is where the Nicholson Memorial Library used to be. I so wanted to be able to do the time travel thing and BE there 50 years ago. And I so wanted to be able to call my mom on the phone and say, "Guess what just happened to me!" I can't do either one, but the delight of the moment stayed with me for the rest of the day.khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00073121540393799267noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22406471.post-42846656548857085162007-06-25T21:02:00.000-05:002007-06-25T22:10:17.914-05:00Bookin' itI 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.<br /><br />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.)<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />I have given myself some new reading goals in my <a href="http://supergrammie.blogspot.com/2007/05/101-things-in-1001-days.html">101 list</a>, 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.<br /><br />It's all due back in two weeks. And then I can check out another big pile, as many as I want.khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00073121540393799267noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22406471.post-54345104471760949482007-06-14T08:56:00.000-05:002007-06-14T09:37:07.031-05:00school and babiesGeeGee 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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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. <br /><br />So, hurry summer and be over quickly. I've got things to do.khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00073121540393799267noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22406471.post-79572875609973785902007-06-13T15:39:00.000-05:002007-06-13T19:12:11.778-05:00Goal No. 95--CHECK!I didn't list <a href="http://supergrammie.blogspot.com/2007/05/101-things-in-1001-days.html">my goals </a>in order of importance and number 95 is a biggie. Life changing, as a matter of fact.<br /><br />I've been doing daycare for 22 of the last 24 years of my life. I started when <a href="http://24goingon40.blogspot.com/">ksl</a> 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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLdKpTuD-YldNvWUnILHL5gOw9gGlJUDjcUCdya6r-quCG7jHo6eBcQChwu3C94qTRpvRRrFL0STT5lUbLwGDoLtIxrwxY_GHHfn_Q89MNvKLOidtLPdKzN3j8bH6X6Kw8uxycKg/s1600-h/ksljm.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLdKpTuD-YldNvWUnILHL5gOw9gGlJUDjcUCdya6r-quCG7jHo6eBcQChwu3C94qTRpvRRrFL0STT5lUbLwGDoLtIxrwxY_GHHfn_Q89MNvKLOidtLPdKzN3j8bH6X6Kw8uxycKg/s320/ksljm.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5075704794089057426" border="0" /></a><br /><br />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!<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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...<br /><br />And, oh yeah, I'm going shopping for school clothes, too.khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00073121540393799267noreply@blogger.com5