Where you think you stand

Let anyone who thinks that he stands take heed lest he fall... I Cor. 10:12

First, all the little foster children came and infested the whole house with even littler crawling bugs. Every mattress was lysoled and left in the sunshine.

I was unaffected.

Then Aliana came to stay with me. She wouldn't sleep alone, so she slept with me - but every night, we picked nits. I am SURE we never picked them all before she rested her beautiful face, surrounded by long fine hair, on my shoulder.

I never found nits in my hair.

In Bogotà, piojos were normal. No one batted an eye if you asked them to search your hair and more than once, I passed my evening hours picking through Jorge's -

but I never, ever, ever had lice.

I thought I was immune. I thought I stood.

This week, I found one. My friend found 2 more. I've picked nits for hours out of my own hair this weekend, used a jar of mayonnaise, 2 gallons of vinegar, a can of lysol, and 1/2 gallon of bleach in my quest to rid myself of these parasites.

I fell. And así:

sin.

You think you can't fall to that temptation. You've stood against it for so many years. It creeps in, the source unknown. And so you battle. It would've been easier to catch before it went this far.

Take heed. Will you fall?

Surrounded by school

You know you’re a teacher when...

you understand that the student who says “The White House” is actually referring to Washington State.

you clean out your pockets to find 87 cents... in plastic coins. And a few paperclips to boot.

you can interpret “They did something illegal. They put signs in the road,” to realize that a student has driven around the road construction detour.

you think you're going to get charged extra by the garbage company because you have so many bags of paper.

you go home every day to think of a new and better way.

There is an email oft passed around that answers the question, “What do teachers make?” with quite an effective description of the difference a teacher makes. My favorite phrase is “I make kids sit still for 45 minutes when their parents can’t do it for 5 without a playstation or DVD player.” It’s so true! Have you ever watched your students in church and wondered why their parents allow them to act that way?

But I don’t have it all together. At least every other day I come home and wonder why I can’t reach this student or that one, why I’m allowing this or that to happen, why we cannot learn more.

And then I realize that no matter how much time I pour into these children, no matter how much progress they make, no matter how well they behave or perform, no matter how pleasant our days are as they pass... No matter - in 9 months, they’re gone. It’s over. I may never see them again.

Unexpected finds

(Qualifier: The reason behind the following is not that I live in a tent. Actually, I leave my bedroom window and front doors wide open for air circulation. They open onto the screened front porch, but that door has a crack under it...)

I looked into the corner of the bathroom the other day. What was that odd little pile?

OH! A frog! Well, I was glad it was a little one, rather than a gooey fat one like we found in the garden or the drinker. I didn't mind picking him up and throwing him back outside.

I realized there was a spider web in the "happy room," around the corner from the kitchen. Then I realized there was a spider. I left it. I hate flies in the kitchen.

This morning I walked back into my bedroom, flipping the light on. In my half-awake state, I puzzled over the large lint pile moving slowly across the white rug. Finally, it dawned on me that it was actually a worm covered in lint. I was glad I hadn't stepped on this creature who would have fit with Jack's beanstalk. He was about 3 inches long, with a 1/2 inch diameter; appearances said tomato worm. I wrapped him in a paper towel before smashing him. Who wants to leave that kind of goop on an off-white carpet? And who wants my already struggling tomato plants eaten?

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Last week I cleaned out the file cabinet in my classroom. It was filled with treasures - a wedding invitation from two years ago, a printer cord buried amongst the Christmas art cutouts, about 100 copies of a paper snowflake, and language papers from 1981. I have two almost empty drawers now, and two neatly organized sets of hanging folders.

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I cleaned out my thoughts the other night. I realized that I was becoming distracted by people and neglecting the Lord's approval. Throw those folks' opinion where they should be, on the outside.

I had a conversation in which I realized that I could NOT understand why people wanted to party in the midst of classes. I think I'll leave my lack of imagination as is. It works.

Hidden. Deep in my heart, covered with justifiable feelings of denial and disbelief, creeping into my relationships, I found something else. Bitterness, unforgiveness - creeping into my thought patterns. I'm wrapping them up in prayer, but I need to smash them...

My mind is filled with treasures. Some of them truly are good things, dreams and memories. Some are mine, but some I've gleaned from the ideals of others. I wonder, have I allowed the treasures to clutter what the Lord is doing? He's cleaning, I know, and making room.

Borrowing children

I'm always amazed by people who knew me when I was little and still recognize me. Apparently I haven't changed much. Anyway, the other day in Dairy Queen, I was chatting with one of these. She wondered if my 12 year old friend was my child.

"I'm not old enough to be his mom!!!!" I thought - but I didn't say it. All of a sudden I realized that I am old enough to be his mom. That's a little scary.

I've developed a friendship with a family at church who have a 6 and a 7 year old; they've had a lot going on, so the kids have stayed with me a lot lately. My mom commented that as a a caregiver I would not, "usurp parental authority," despite having the kids for so much time.

During the Dairy Queen discussion, I told my acquaintance, "I just borrow other people's children." She said, "It's nice to take them home, isn't it, then the parents have the problems?" I had to think.... sometimes it is. I am a little spoiled to looking forward to a quiet house and only myself to keep on schedule. These young friends, unlike Eagles' Wings kids, go home to loving parents. I don't have to worry about them, or usurp the parents in order to give the children structure, so taking them home doesn't cause me grief.

But I said, "Sometimes it isn't. I like kids." It's true: that's probably why I'm a teacher. Why Eagles' Wings drew me. Why I beg to babysit, and sometimes just outright ask to borrow children for a while. I'm not sure that the quiet house outweighs the joy of life with young ones. And when I have them, the responsibility strikes me repeatedly: what will this child take away from me? Will their parents appreciate that which I return? Or - do I just enjoy the moment and avoid the problems?

A choice to make...

What about our other blessings? The ones the Lord loans us. When we return them, what does He receive? What do our friends take away? How do we care for our gifts and talents and time? Enjoy the moment and avoid the problems? Or remember that a debt should be repaid in full, with interest. To him that has, it shall be given....

The best of a teacher's world

Between facebook and the blog, I've shared the essence of my travels, the "exciting" part of my life. I shared the coffee and the beloved friends, some pretty pictures, good food, and just generally different sorts of sites. That covered my summer - EXCEPT.

Except. Teaching is a part of me. A tremendous part of my identity is that of "teacher." And for 6 1/2 blessed days of my "vacation," I taught. I had the best of a teacher's world, really: I walked into lesson plans made, all supplies ready, a well-trained classroom. Well, well-trained for Luz y Vida kids in first grade, anyway. We can disregard the random departures of a little girl who went to sit in the non-functional fireplace and the little boy who simply ran random circles. And we should be able to disregard the child who literally could NOT cease talking. Quite insignificant disruptions when you consider my last Luz y Vida class, or the fact that the first graders in Bible school were just as random, if not quite so ignorant of limitations.

Anyway, the best of a teacher's world: that it was. Spanish is a lovely language. The letters make the sounds, the sounds make the words. There are no dipthongs and exceptions and multiple ways to spell the same sound. These little first graders might have only been 10 or 12 weeks into the school year, but already they could read words. What fun to help them use a new letter in that process! What fun to have 6 students and, IF you stay on your toes, actually engage them in activities.

Luz y Vida is a ministry school. There are strengths and weaknesses in that statement. Pay is nonexistent for the "profes," and supplies are not abundant. But, like Spanish, it is simpler. The goal is that children learn.

Now, I am preparing for my school year here in the States. We have an online curriculum mapper. We have state standards. And core standards. And English language development standards. We have strategies for success, goals for AYP, and technology integration. I think our system is a bit like English: there are too many exceptions to find the rules, too many ways to success to quickly proceed in our process.

Complaining doesn't help. Cooperation does. I will pray for Luz y Vida, for volunteers, for strength and energy and wisdom, for children to hear the Word of God. And I will pray for Santa Rosa Elementary, for teachers to keep on, for strength and energy and wisdom, for Jesus' light to shine in a dark world.

That's the language of a teacher.

P.S. The best part of Luz y Vida: Two precious little boys, brothers, who were in my 4 year old class at El Otro Camino in 2008 were in the first grade. They've no structure, no money, no welfare, and no ideal parents, but through the work of the ministry, they can read. Thank you, Lord!

Part of the family

I spent two of my three weekends in Colombia in “Kiwi House,” one of the homes established for children who come to the ministry and need 24/7 care. The caregivers in Kiwi are my good friends, I stayed there some when I lived in Bogotá, and my precious little J lives there now. I asked them to stop telling me thank you for pitching in with household chores, as I wanted to be part of the family. But what part?

Kiwi isn’t a traditional family, but it is God’s gift of Psalm 68 for the children living there. I couldn’t be the “mom” or the “grandma,” and I certainly couldn’t pretend to be a man! We settled on a visiting auntie and continued with the joke, “Well, I won’t thank you since we’re family.” I felt like family... what is it that makes you feel like family?

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It is not good for man to be alone. Or woman, when you consider that God made her as a companion to start with.

It’s a classic wedding verse, and rightly so, given the context. It’s also a verse worthy of discussion in light of I Cor. 7, Isaiah 54, and the fulfillment found only in Christ Jesus. A dear friend, a widow, wrote of this verse one day, reminding me that it is not only marriage at stake. As believers, we are called to love one another. It is not good to be alone. And for this, God made family. Marriage. Children. The family of God!

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I’ve no shortage of family, as anyone who’s seen a photo will notice. Maybe that’s why it’s been such a long process to leave them. I think my nephews are precocious and visit them (and their parents) often. I talk to my parents about everything. My younger siblings have kept me from turning into an old person early. I know why I feel like family with them: they’ve seen the worst in me and I know what they expect. Even if I mess up, they can’t get rid of me.

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I live alone. Now God and I have had a lot of discussions about this (after all, my mom even makes the point that living alone makes you selfish, since you don’t have to work around anyone else), but this is what He has decided, now. Many times, I like that fact. For instance, I can leave clothes in the washer and shoes in the living room floor and NO ONE minds.

But sometimes I don’t like it. I wondered once, if I had a wreck during summer vacation, how long would it take for someone to notice my absence?

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Apparently, I’m pretty adoptable... adaptable. Both. There are a lot of places I’m pretty comfortable and a lot of people who say “Just call!” I have a multitude of “moms” who like to make sure I’m fed and tell me to get some rest. I don’t even feel guilty calling the Johnsons every time I need a place to stay in Albuquerque, knowing I may walk in on a family gathering or it may just be us, sitting and chatting. They very much relate as the family of God.

(My friend Caro and her family, who took me into their home while I was in Bogotá)

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But it is not good to be alone. When you aren’t with your family, you’re called away from your parents’ home, you aren’t married, how to heed this bit of wisdom?

It is here that we hear the call of the family of God. Perhaps they will come to you. Perhaps you must go to them. But “family” is more than just being comfortable and knowing limits of visitation. Family is give and take, serve and receive, encourage and admonish. Family is interruptions and availability.

I did live alone, sometimes, in Albuquerque, because I so chose. I didn’t “just call” and I crowded my schedule so that I wasn’t available or “interrupting”. I realized this week, though, that just as I am comfortable with my family because of such interaction, so I have the family of God because of interaction. In Kiwi house, thank yous were vocalized because they served me and received my gifts; I wished to encourage but came away as the recipient. Spending days on end with those of Kiwi made me available to experience life, to be interrupted by their personhood. I was not alone.

And I don’t really live alone anymore. There are a multitude of “just call” folks in Santa Rosa, of course, but more than that, God’s given me a built in “family” here, in my very driveway. Hardly a day passes that I don’t walk down, or they come up, to interrupt. They rarely ask for my help, but I try not to miss an opportunity to give it (the fact that such assistance may involve cows or horses is certainly an attraction). They give much to me, if I open up to receive; eating cookies in the rain goes a long way toward building relationships.They say thank you; I say thank you... but some things are just done, and left unsaid.

That’s because God has provided. I miss my family. I miss my family of Kiwi House. It is not good to be alone - but, if we live by His word... “So we, being many, are one body in Christ, and every one members one of another... Be kindly affectioned one to another with brotherly love...Distributing to the necessity of the saints; given to hospitality... Rejoice with them that do rejoice, and weep with them that weep...” (Romans 12:5-18)

Do I choose to obey? Because if I do, I will not be - alone.

Random Site Pictures

http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.2201221747950.2132608.1169497617&l=ac9712a259

As mentioned, it is MUCH easier to post photos on facebook. This link is for random pictures. The other one is for food.

Yay!