2016: Perspective

IMG_7373I am sitting at the breakfast table across from my son.  He is 14 1/2, and has a set of glowing blue headphones on his ears.  We both have laptops in front of us.  He asked what I was looking at.  I told him my blog, then said, “I haven’t written anything in 7 months.”  At which point he applauded.  I asked why he was applauding that, and he said, “Well, at least you aren’t blogging every day like you used to.  You used to spend HOURS on the computer.”

Ah. . .how things have changed.  Now HE spends hours on the computer, and I was just pondering trying to write a post each day to get back into the swing of things.  I am not even really reading blogs anymore, but I need to.  It offers a different perspective on life–what people ponder and reveal and think.

So, on this first day of 2016, I will say that writing is a priority this year.  So is drinking plenty of water, getting good rest, continuing to take care of my body and spirit as well as the bodies and spirits of my little family.

This year is a biggie–Victoria will graduate in June and be off to college in August.  That is not a change I look forward to for me, but it is an adventure I look forward to for her. Thad begins high school in August–without his sister here to guide him and encourage him and make him laugh when we can’t.

Last school year, our principal (young guy) chose one word for 2015.  His word was “finish.” He was working on his doctorate, in the middle of his first year of being a principal, etc.  So, FINISH.  That was a good word.

I have thought about one word for 2016.  There were a couple in the running:  Endure, Faithfulness. . but sitting here just now with me bemoaning my lack of writing and Thad applauding it, I think I have chosen my One Word for 2016.  Perspective.  Much like a just right Christmas gift, or a new pair of shoes, I knew it when I saw it. It fit. It was right.

Perspective.  Perspective on the past and on the future.  Perspective on how my children, my husband and I all view a situation, an event, a memory.  Perspective on them growing up and us growing older.  Perspective on where I live and what I do and how I do it.  Perspective on the students I teach and how we interpret the same information differently.  Perspective on how long it’s taken me to develop or break habits. Perspective on events and choices and decisions.

There is a song by Garth Brooks that most people don’t know.  It was from his ill-fated, short-lived adventure as Chris Gaines.  The song is “That’s the Way I Remember It.”  It’s a song about perspective.

It’s only natural with time
Details can somehow slip your mind
Something so sweet, though incomplete
You fill the spaces in between

It never will be that way again
Maybe it wasn’t, way back when
To my heart and soul
This is the way the story has to be told

That’s the way, I remember it, I remember it that way
From the day, I was living it, I remember it that way

Some of our stories fade as we grow older
Some get sweeter every time they’re told
That’s the way, I’ll remember it that way.

2016:  Perspective

 

 

They Grow

November, Thanksgiving, 2009 344 crpThis is not a news flash.  It is well known throughout the generations.  When one has an infant, they spend many hours worrying about the infant’s health–if they are thriving–growing–getting enough nutrition.  They soon brag about the percentile and what size clothing the baby wears.  Next comes the new and interesting things that the baby, then toddler can do.  Then there is reading and losing teeth, and before you know, both of your infants are taller than you.

November, Thanksgiving, 2009 247 ps crpSuch is the case at my house.  I am trying to get all of my digital photos onto USBs so that I don’t have a catastrophic event and lose them all.  Alas, I am also trying to sort through them to delete the ones that aren’t good and to adjust the ones that need some TLC to remove red eyes or lighten a dark shot.

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Renfest, 2009 Blog_019 crpThis is dangerous business at the end of the school year.  This Momma is worn slap out and is already thinking about what photos to send for Victoria’s “Senior Sunday” slideshow next May.  The time.  It goes.  The kids.  They grow–and grow–and grow–and then they go too.

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November, Thanksgiving, 2009 280 ps2 crpAnd that is as it should be.  If they get stuck, or don’t thrive–if they aren’t successful, then other sadnesses arise.  This sadness is a good one.  My children are thriving, growing, learning, and they are just such GOOD kids.  But, oh, the the sighings of the heart–the tightening of the throat–the loosing of the tears over the discomfort of stretching, stretching apron strings.

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The Same

Romans 8:11 “And if the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead is living in you, he who raised Christ from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through his Spirit, who lives in you.”

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Long time ago when Thad was barely 3, and I first went back to work, I drove Tony’s truck.  It was a five-speed, on the floor, Ford F150.  I also drove it when I was pregnant with Victoria which was interesting enough. . .but by the time it was “my” vehicle again, both the babies were born and riding to school with their Daddy every day.

Each morning, I would get up, get dressed–get the kids downstairs and fed and hugged and hugged some more, then I would leave for work dressed in  my cute, home-sewn skirt and some pastel top–teacher flats–hair coiffed, makeup applied, perfumed. . .and off I’d go.

More than once at a particular traffic light at FM1960 and Jones Rd., I would have to stop and wait several minutes to turn left to head to my campus.  During those times, I got more than one strange look.

Everyone from teenagers to truck drivers would look over at this beat up, faded, rusty, beleaguered pick-up (like people do who sit at four minute traffic lights), yet inside sat a  relatively young AND relatively plump lady dressed nicely for work–NOT the doo-rag/baseball cap wearing, scruffy, flannel-shirted geezer they expected to see.  (Nothing against doo-rags, caps, flannel, OR geezers).  Their faces registered sleepiness or boredom, then shock, then either surprise or humor–and quite often I received a wave or a thumbs up with their chuckles–a head shake as if to say, “Well, if that don’t beat all!” A curly-haired, 30-something lady was not the status-quo for a vehicle of such. . .character.

And that is how we are isn’t it?    To the outside world, at a glance, we are beleaguered.  Worn out.  Scarred.  Dusty.  Rusty.  Bent.  “Hard-pressed on every side, perplexed, persecuted, struck down. . .” (II Cor. 4:8&9) There is an expectation of how we will behave–respond–react.  Many days we, ourselves,  feel each dent and scratch.  We stutter and stop when the clutch is released rather than move along.

Yet a closer look–a time to stop and ponder–one more turn of the key with a firm foot to the gas shows those nearby and reminds us that we are NOT crushed or in despair or abandoned or destroyed.   “For God, who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ made HIS light shine in our HEARTS to give us the LIGHT of the knowledge of the GLORY of God in the FACE of Christ.” (II Cor. 4:6) The LIGHT of the knowledge of the GLORY of God in the FACE of Christ is to shine from OUR  faces–from our smiles–from our eyes–from our souls–clean, shiny, dressed up, and smellin’ good!

“Therefore, we do not lose heart.  Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.” (II Cor. 4:16)

Rusty, dusty, bent? Yes.  But on the inside–renewed, clean, whole, sanctified, and purring like a kitten!

 

Turning to a New Page

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The school year is coming to a close, and about three weeks ago my principal asked me to teach a new class this year.  And it’s not Language Arts OR Reading OR any combination thereof.  I was shocked and amazed–and honored and appreciative.

This has been a year in which I have grown and stretched and learned as a teacher.  And now, that will continue next year as well.  I keep on telling my kids that you will have to learn ALL  of your life.

In the mean time, I am ready for summer.  I am ready to go through photographs (like the one above) and tell their stories.  This one was from October, 2012 when Tony surprised me with a trip to Round Top–which is a big antiques fair nearby.  It was all his own idea and it was a wonderful trip.

Hopefully this new page I’m turning at work will give me a little more room to breathe–but even if it doesn’t, summer vacation is on the way and the year ahead is going to be full of endings and beginnings.  I need a nice, long break before we begin.

Happy Easter

blog Easter, 2015 063Because of all the wonderful things that God has done for us–we get to enjoy days with family remembering the sacrifice of His Son that not only gives us beautiful days with family on this earth, but also gives us the confidence of beautiful days with family forever.  We are truly blessed.

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Perfect

I have not written in a long time.  There has been no time, I say.  Of course, there has been time. . .I have just used it differently–in other ways–walking, cooking, creating test questions, calling parents, running errands.  I just read a book where the main character is an artist who hasn’t done art for almost two decades.  She writes to an old friend–a lengthy, rambling letter–and the friend says to her, “Stop this.  You must create or you will become a menace to society.”  I think I might need to hang that up over every door I walk through on a daily basis.  I must create or I will become a menace to society.

Photo with different filters.  (I don’t know this little girl, nor did I ask her mother’s permission to photograph her or put her on the internets–however, I will say that she looks like any 15-18 month old little girl on the beach from a distance.)  This falls under the category of creating–not being a menace to society.

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Lexington, Spring Break, March 2015 140 under waterUnderwater

Break

Today is the first day of the rest of our Christmas break.  It involved teaching, napping, cooking, driving, reading, (not all simultaneously) and now writing followed by resting followed (tomorrow) by shopping.  Sunday will be more driving and then visiting my family in Louisiana.

This year has been busy and full and hard and exhausting, but we are all healthy and under one roof and blessed beyond belief.

I left all school work at school.  My desk is as unburied as it has been all year long.  There are still papers to grade–and other papers to SAY I will grade until the end of the nine weeks when I will recycle them and suffer the ensuing guilt.  But, for now, for today, I have a two week vacation staring me in the face, and I plan to enjoy every second of it.  I can say in all truth and honesty that I have EARNED it.