So, Ethan asked me out today. Asked me out to play cows on the bridge in our woods, that is. We ended up building sand castles by the creek. It was pretty, peaceful, and cool out there...the cool, squishable, grainy sand felt so good between my fingers...like cold brown sugar. Anyone who takes time out to be with Ethan is his hero of the hour, and since I haven't done it much at all lately, it surprised me a little to find how lovable and sweet he is...although he still already knows everything I know, and more, at age four... and tells me so at every opportunity. I still find that I have influence though. The Bad Indian Fortress suddenly became a Good Indian Fortress when I began building one, and as soon as I planted a tree in my castle, he had to have one too.
The poor kid must be desperate if he thinks its fun to build sandcastles with me. I didn't even sit down in the sand, for heaven's sake...or take off my shoes. Actually, it would have felt good to sink my toes into some of that perfect dirt. As it was, I just mentally planned a creekside picnic (in swim suits) when I'll be happy to dive in and get in the dirt for a change. Yes, somebody please hold me accountable to this!
The other reason I don't see why Ethan can tolerate me as a playmate is that my architechtural and strategic capabilities are sorely lacking. My castles are partially cylindrical blobs with something akin to roads leading out of them...no fortifications, really...and random seedlings *ahem*, trees up at high points. But, can you believe it? He wants to copy my ideas! Its a good thing the poor little fella spends more time with Connor than with me. In the end we had a bunch of mysterious sandy mounds with little or no comprehensive order or use...a passing woodsman might have viewed them with the same puzzlement and awe inspired by Stonehenge (if they had been a bit bigger, that is.) Hey, maybe that's the explaination for Stonehenge after all...providing,
a) that giants did exist
and
b) that giants had the same sort of family life
maybe a sister giant went out in the woods with her little brother giant and they made sandcastles...and then the sandcastles petrified, the creek dried up (and the trees got cut down), and wa-la! Stonehenge! Yes, I'm sure that's how it happened.
Spending quality time with Ethan is something I don't do very much, and want to do more...even if its hard sometimes to pull myself out of my own little (quite little) world. There are definitely some rich rewards. I think one of my favorite things about spending time with kids in general is hearing the hilarious things they have to say- and their honest, sometimes quite humbling, opinion! I've been told recently that its much more fun to jump on the trampoline with heavy people like me, that my earrings are "very cool and look like little light bulbs," and that when I read aloud my collarbone moves up and down (in an apparently inexcusably wierd way!) Ethan told me that his Bad Indian Fortress (until it became the Good Indian Fortress) was where the indians who were "mean and creechy" lived. From my understanding, "creechy" is fits somewhere between "creepy" and "creature."
Time for supper now...adios!
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Friday, April 13, 2007
This Moment
Thank You, God
For bringing me to this day
And blessing me with this moment.
I don't know if my subconscious picked these words up somewhere or if God just gave them to me one day...but they just draw the thankfulness out of my heart to God. He's been faithful to lead me all my days, and today He is faithful once more. It's raining and I'm getting to blog after a day of housework and English assignments (My last ones, by the way...I'm very proud of that and at the same time kinda sad...I've enjoyed Mrs. Burklin's teaching so much and I'm so thankful for her selfless labor in teaching us...but its exciting to think of what's ahead.) Relient K is on in the other room...I can here my siblings yakking about something. Time to go and dig up some supper and go to Lauren and Gracie's waltzing\cha cha performance. Just today we decided to go, and I'm really looking forward to seeing them. Waltzing is really amazing when you find out what goes into it! I always just thought it was moving around on the floor! Now I have a very deep respect for it. Well...someday maybe I'll try, when performance isn't required :) Blessings to all.
For bringing me to this day
And blessing me with this moment.
I don't know if my subconscious picked these words up somewhere or if God just gave them to me one day...but they just draw the thankfulness out of my heart to God. He's been faithful to lead me all my days, and today He is faithful once more. It's raining and I'm getting to blog after a day of housework and English assignments (My last ones, by the way...I'm very proud of that and at the same time kinda sad...I've enjoyed Mrs. Burklin's teaching so much and I'm so thankful for her selfless labor in teaching us...but its exciting to think of what's ahead.) Relient K is on in the other room...I can here my siblings yakking about something. Time to go and dig up some supper and go to Lauren and Gracie's waltzing\cha cha performance. Just today we decided to go, and I'm really looking forward to seeing them. Waltzing is really amazing when you find out what goes into it! I always just thought it was moving around on the floor! Now I have a very deep respect for it. Well...someday maybe I'll try, when performance isn't required :) Blessings to all.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
The Re-enchantment
What do I have to be happy about?
What do I have to be happy about? I have to admit that I'm guilty of asking that question. My world seems to come to an end at least once a week. April streams in green sunlight all around me, and life's horizons are bursting with the same bloom and blessing every time I turn around- how dare I say such an ungrateful thing! How in tarnation do I get so depressed? How can I wake up in the morning to shower, dress, breakfast, and then be sunk in the unexplainable dread of another day, and the longing to go back to bed? I'm not even sleep deprived, and there isn't even a specific activity in the day I dread. After talking with Deb the other day (who most certainly has more reason that I to crawl back to bed!) I kind of got a clue.
She told me how she once compiled a bunch of verses on joy and pondered them. Its such a good idea, and we're going to try to do it together. The clue I got about my "depressedness" though, is that I'm not rejoicing in God my Savior, trusting Him with whatever comes, and resting in the love He shows me. Instead of choosing joy, I choose misery; judging and feeling judged.
At the Mother\Daughter conference we went to recently, Christianna Reed Moss talked about disappointments and how they make us grow old. So many times, my family has jokingly refered to me as an "old lady"... not that I took offense, it was true! In what I tenderly refer to as the "vest-wearing stage" of my life (don't ask) I was an introverted, critical, scared little old lady whose sole interests were crocheting and babying her beloved pet cat, Emily. And reading fantasy stories. (Nothing against fantasy, there- I just mean that it pretty much consumed my life!) I'm not sure what I was like outside- on the inside I was afraid of growing up, afraid to try anything new, and so, so afraid of disappointment. Somehow I'd decided that growing up was going to turn me into an evil teenager, or perhaps what my subconscious dreaded far more- a bored, disenchanted adult. Somewhere along the way, I had come to the conclusion that grownups have to go through all sorts of horrible inevitable things like work, divorce, seeing loved ones die, etc. Although my family hadn't really been through anything tragic, it seemed that adults in general were a suffering lot, and worst of all, could never predict when catastrophe might fall on them, or do anything to prevent it. And it also seemed like they were never particularly interested in the world I found so fascinating and was loath to leave- one of silvery fantasy stories, of miraculous litters of silky kittens, of shining, almost unearthly beautiful new leaves that came out every spring. I was afraid of losing that and becoming bored with life, and so I tried to retreat into Neverland. I can even remember kneeling by my bed, weeping, distraught with God that I was already about to be in sixth grade! What I didn't realize, in all my retreating and rejecting the new opportunities in my life, was that I was shunning life and the people around me and becoming the narrow, disappointed person I so dreaded. In fear over losing my childhood, I was becoming an old woman...old of soul!
So when Christianna began to talk about this, something deep within me was stirred. By the grace of God alone, through the avenue of my parents intervention, my heart changed and began opening up to new things, places, and people. I had become a Christian at age six, but you could say that my testimony throughout my teen years has been one of becoming "re-enchanted" with my Savior. Christianna spoke about how we can give up our disappointments with God, people, and life, and He makes things new. Suddenly it dawned on me that life is not so limited as I thought. Life is more than what is right in front of my face. Just because I've seen one thing doesn't mean I've seen it all! God is so much bigger than that! God was saying to me, quietly, where that clinging bit of old self could hear, "The old can grow young, in Me." Yes! The old can grow young! "He satisfies your youth with good things, so that your youth is renewed like the eagle..." (Ps. 103) The sun rises every morning...new. The leaves come out every Spring...new. His mercies are new every morning...NEW! Disappointment is not the end...He can always surprise us! When Christ Jesus was buried in the tomb, the disciples, everyone, was disappointed, heartbroken. All their hopes were crushed. But He did stay down, did He? There He was, that morning on the shore of Tiberias, saying "Come and have breakfast." And He's been saying that to me.
So why was I unhappy? Why was I wondering What to be happy about? Because I'd forgotten, plain and simple. Today I read Romans 5:2 "We rejoice in the hope of the glory of God." That's what we have to be happy about. Every single morning! Hope, and sunrises. The constant knowledge that He can surprise us at any moment with glory. For us who are bought with the price of His blood, and have been captivated by glimpses of His love, we will be surprised one day when He comes for us, dresses us in white, and calls us by a new, sweet name. And we'll be with Him forever...a neverending childhood of wonder with the one who conceived every wonderful thing ever created or thought of. Jesus, I love You! Never let me forget!
What do I have to be happy about? I have to admit that I'm guilty of asking that question. My world seems to come to an end at least once a week. April streams in green sunlight all around me, and life's horizons are bursting with the same bloom and blessing every time I turn around- how dare I say such an ungrateful thing! How in tarnation do I get so depressed? How can I wake up in the morning to shower, dress, breakfast, and then be sunk in the unexplainable dread of another day, and the longing to go back to bed? I'm not even sleep deprived, and there isn't even a specific activity in the day I dread. After talking with Deb the other day (who most certainly has more reason that I to crawl back to bed!) I kind of got a clue.
She told me how she once compiled a bunch of verses on joy and pondered them. Its such a good idea, and we're going to try to do it together. The clue I got about my "depressedness" though, is that I'm not rejoicing in God my Savior, trusting Him with whatever comes, and resting in the love He shows me. Instead of choosing joy, I choose misery; judging and feeling judged.
At the Mother\Daughter conference we went to recently, Christianna Reed Moss talked about disappointments and how they make us grow old. So many times, my family has jokingly refered to me as an "old lady"... not that I took offense, it was true! In what I tenderly refer to as the "vest-wearing stage" of my life (don't ask) I was an introverted, critical, scared little old lady whose sole interests were crocheting and babying her beloved pet cat, Emily. And reading fantasy stories. (Nothing against fantasy, there- I just mean that it pretty much consumed my life!) I'm not sure what I was like outside- on the inside I was afraid of growing up, afraid to try anything new, and so, so afraid of disappointment. Somehow I'd decided that growing up was going to turn me into an evil teenager, or perhaps what my subconscious dreaded far more- a bored, disenchanted adult. Somewhere along the way, I had come to the conclusion that grownups have to go through all sorts of horrible inevitable things like work, divorce, seeing loved ones die, etc. Although my family hadn't really been through anything tragic, it seemed that adults in general were a suffering lot, and worst of all, could never predict when catastrophe might fall on them, or do anything to prevent it. And it also seemed like they were never particularly interested in the world I found so fascinating and was loath to leave- one of silvery fantasy stories, of miraculous litters of silky kittens, of shining, almost unearthly beautiful new leaves that came out every spring. I was afraid of losing that and becoming bored with life, and so I tried to retreat into Neverland. I can even remember kneeling by my bed, weeping, distraught with God that I was already about to be in sixth grade! What I didn't realize, in all my retreating and rejecting the new opportunities in my life, was that I was shunning life and the people around me and becoming the narrow, disappointed person I so dreaded. In fear over losing my childhood, I was becoming an old woman...old of soul!
So when Christianna began to talk about this, something deep within me was stirred. By the grace of God alone, through the avenue of my parents intervention, my heart changed and began opening up to new things, places, and people. I had become a Christian at age six, but you could say that my testimony throughout my teen years has been one of becoming "re-enchanted" with my Savior. Christianna spoke about how we can give up our disappointments with God, people, and life, and He makes things new. Suddenly it dawned on me that life is not so limited as I thought. Life is more than what is right in front of my face. Just because I've seen one thing doesn't mean I've seen it all! God is so much bigger than that! God was saying to me, quietly, where that clinging bit of old self could hear, "The old can grow young, in Me." Yes! The old can grow young! "He satisfies your youth with good things, so that your youth is renewed like the eagle..." (Ps. 103) The sun rises every morning...new. The leaves come out every Spring...new. His mercies are new every morning...NEW! Disappointment is not the end...He can always surprise us! When Christ Jesus was buried in the tomb, the disciples, everyone, was disappointed, heartbroken. All their hopes were crushed. But He did stay down, did He? There He was, that morning on the shore of Tiberias, saying "Come and have breakfast." And He's been saying that to me.
So why was I unhappy? Why was I wondering What to be happy about? Because I'd forgotten, plain and simple. Today I read Romans 5:2 "We rejoice in the hope of the glory of God." That's what we have to be happy about. Every single morning! Hope, and sunrises. The constant knowledge that He can surprise us at any moment with glory. For us who are bought with the price of His blood, and have been captivated by glimpses of His love, we will be surprised one day when He comes for us, dresses us in white, and calls us by a new, sweet name. And we'll be with Him forever...a neverending childhood of wonder with the one who conceived every wonderful thing ever created or thought of. Jesus, I love You! Never let me forget!
Friday, April 6, 2007
That Country Shall Be My Home...
"I have but one passion - it is He, it is He alone. The world is the field and the field is the world; and henceforth that country shall be my home where I can be most used in winning souls for Christ." - Count Zinzindorf
That's my quote for the day...about all I can eek out the time to post right now. I stole it from the Crowe's website http://www.liftupyoureyes.org/ . Whichever country. Honestly, I'm a bit weak on the passion part, but it's growing. Its faith, not feelings :) Oh, and please don't ask who Count Zinzindorf is...but he does have a cool name!
That's my quote for the day...about all I can eek out the time to post right now. I stole it from the Crowe's website http://www.liftupyoureyes.org/ . Whichever country. Honestly, I'm a bit weak on the passion part, but it's growing. Its faith, not feelings :) Oh, and please don't ask who Count Zinzindorf is...but he does have a cool name!
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
The Weight of the World...
Wow. Today was kind of one of those days where I want to change the world. Its such an awefully big place! Its pretty overwhelming, though exciting too.
After lunch this afternoon, Connor whipped up some ice coffee for the two of us (nobody else was home, so they totally missed out) and we a a siblingly chat in our homeade cafe. It's nice to sit and talk about life, and the possibilities of the future. I guess you could say we're both learning to be globally minded, and being 15 and 18 in a increasingly globalizing world, possibilities for going, doing, and being seem to be exploding on our horizons. At least distant horizons, that is :) I don't know what I will do with my life...honestly I'm giving it every day to God and I know I will only go where He leads, but I am excited that He is a God of Future and Hope.
After taking multiple missions trips, going through a rather intensive geography class this school year, and nosing curiously into various cultures and stories, I'm suddenly burdened with the staggering weight of the world's problems. It's not something I'm supposed to bear, I suppose, but I've been feeling it rather keenly. Racial hatred in Rwanda, nuclear weapons in Iran, Israel's struggle for their promise land, unloved orphans in China, darkness and depression in Ukraine, hungry children in India, the persecuted church in many nations, AIDs and the ravages of the late slave trade all over Africa...it goes on and on...I have to humbly admit, I can't, and don't, carry the burden, even in prayer; but I often feel guilty for not doing so! I end up thinking I'm expected to do something about it when perhaps God would just have me sensitively open up my heart to share His pain and joy. "My burden is easy and light..."
Connor and I's approaches to changing the world are a bit different. While I open up my heart to painful issues and then suddenly feel like a ten ton boulder has smashed it into the ground, Connor seems to maintain hope and have ideas about how to give it. It's called vision, I think. He was just mentioning this afternoon how cool it is for people to help start micro businesses in third world countries (such as loaning a poverty stricken family money to get a small fridge and some chickens...wallah! A grocery store!) I've heard this really works. Usually I find myself crying about orphaned kids...or a similar trouble. A few days ago in a conversation I heard about an orphanage in China...there is this room where kids just lay there silently, all day. "They don't even cry anymore, because they know no one is coming." Wow. Yesterday morning at breakfast our family was having an expostulation over whether and why Mexicans call Mexico the United States of America (an interesting thought) and why WE have the right to call ourselves that...and I just burst out "I'm so sick of all the conflict! I just want to go back to bed!" Aside from the fact that I'd just gotten up on the wrong side of the bed, I am just so worn out thinking of all the conflicts between all the countries in the whole wide world...and we Americans always thinking we're better! I'm sick of my own predjudices and those of my country. I know there can be no peace without Jesus...but I can hardly live with myself sometimes.
When my family reads this, they'll groan. What they're sick of is my scruples, the constant wrestling matches with my conscience, and the garbled guts that get spilled on them frequently. But I have to ask these questions. How can I live responsibly in a world where the skirt I just bought, cost, (on sale) the equivalent of what an Indian man can support his family on decently for two weeks? How can I rationally justify my life up against 1 John 3:16-20? How can I extricate myself from the cultural expectations of a grossly materialistic society? And what about my feeble prayers? I want to "set my heart at rest in His presence" but I am pretty confused and tormented by a lot of things. I cling to His blood that saves me, and trust that He'll show me the way before I experience heart failure...
After lunch this afternoon, Connor whipped up some ice coffee for the two of us (nobody else was home, so they totally missed out) and we a a siblingly chat in our homeade cafe. It's nice to sit and talk about life, and the possibilities of the future. I guess you could say we're both learning to be globally minded, and being 15 and 18 in a increasingly globalizing world, possibilities for going, doing, and being seem to be exploding on our horizons. At least distant horizons, that is :) I don't know what I will do with my life...honestly I'm giving it every day to God and I know I will only go where He leads, but I am excited that He is a God of Future and Hope.
After taking multiple missions trips, going through a rather intensive geography class this school year, and nosing curiously into various cultures and stories, I'm suddenly burdened with the staggering weight of the world's problems. It's not something I'm supposed to bear, I suppose, but I've been feeling it rather keenly. Racial hatred in Rwanda, nuclear weapons in Iran, Israel's struggle for their promise land, unloved orphans in China, darkness and depression in Ukraine, hungry children in India, the persecuted church in many nations, AIDs and the ravages of the late slave trade all over Africa...it goes on and on...I have to humbly admit, I can't, and don't, carry the burden, even in prayer; but I often feel guilty for not doing so! I end up thinking I'm expected to do something about it when perhaps God would just have me sensitively open up my heart to share His pain and joy. "My burden is easy and light..."
Connor and I's approaches to changing the world are a bit different. While I open up my heart to painful issues and then suddenly feel like a ten ton boulder has smashed it into the ground, Connor seems to maintain hope and have ideas about how to give it. It's called vision, I think. He was just mentioning this afternoon how cool it is for people to help start micro businesses in third world countries (such as loaning a poverty stricken family money to get a small fridge and some chickens...wallah! A grocery store!) I've heard this really works. Usually I find myself crying about orphaned kids...or a similar trouble. A few days ago in a conversation I heard about an orphanage in China...there is this room where kids just lay there silently, all day. "They don't even cry anymore, because they know no one is coming." Wow. Yesterday morning at breakfast our family was having an expostulation over whether and why Mexicans call Mexico the United States of America (an interesting thought) and why WE have the right to call ourselves that...and I just burst out "I'm so sick of all the conflict! I just want to go back to bed!" Aside from the fact that I'd just gotten up on the wrong side of the bed, I am just so worn out thinking of all the conflicts between all the countries in the whole wide world...and we Americans always thinking we're better! I'm sick of my own predjudices and those of my country. I know there can be no peace without Jesus...but I can hardly live with myself sometimes.
When my family reads this, they'll groan. What they're sick of is my scruples, the constant wrestling matches with my conscience, and the garbled guts that get spilled on them frequently. But I have to ask these questions. How can I live responsibly in a world where the skirt I just bought, cost, (on sale) the equivalent of what an Indian man can support his family on decently for two weeks? How can I rationally justify my life up against 1 John 3:16-20? How can I extricate myself from the cultural expectations of a grossly materialistic society? And what about my feeble prayers? I want to "set my heart at rest in His presence" but I am pretty confused and tormented by a lot of things. I cling to His blood that saves me, and trust that He'll show me the way before I experience heart failure...
Friday, March 23, 2007
Having a Birthday Party
It's a sticky March night. Mattie is having her 11th birthday party, a campout with four friends...they're out playing capture the flag. I was going to join them, but instead elected to be master photographer and put the pictures on the computer for a slide show. In the process I "replaced" some other important pictures accidentally...what a cold horrible feeling inside. I have a sense of loss. It was kind of the traumatizing end for the day.
Oh, but we're starting fireworks now :) I've got to let it go.
It's fun watching a bunch of giggling girls and wondering if my 11th birthday was like this. I think so, but can't remember the particulars. I know that I had four friends over, just like this...but we didn't spend the night in the tent. The conversations are interesting. Here are a few tidbits.
"I love going to the dentist"
"The doctor gives you candy if you're really good and don't cry, but the dentist only gives you mints."
"sometimes he gives you a toothbrush."
"You mean you've never had your teeth cleaned at the dentist?"
"Why don't you ever go to the dentist?"
"Does anybody need another napkin?"
"Uh, I could use some water"
"And I'd like some more apple juice please."
"I'll take dr. Pepper"
"Ooh! I want some coffee! I always have coffee after meals"
"I picked brown because I never see you wearing black."
"It's time for fireworks!"
"This is the worst fireworks show I've ever seen." (Before it starts)
POP! POP! POP!!! Bam BAM BANG! (light spewing forth)
Eeeee!! OOoooo! Ahhhh!
(Giggles and other loud noises)
Yeah...there were funnier things but I can't remember them now. We took a walk in the dark, the five giddy girls trailing along, arm in arm, with Ethan hovering nearby. They all were wearing pink and blue hankies (party favors.) Connor, Mom, Dad, and I amused ourselves by quoting the new favorite movie of the month, Hoodwinked ("Can't believe I'm sayin' this, but...drink up.") Then Dad put a (rather large) balloon under his shirt and said it was his burger belly. More amusement :)
The girls are now engrossed in the newer version of Pride and Predjudice, and the flood of chatter and gurgling has ceased momentarily. Connor wants me to play a "geography game" with him. Considering that we don't have anything you could categorize as a geography game (with the exception of Risk, maybe), I was kind of wondering what he meant. "I just thought maybe we could get out the atlas and do mountain ranges and stuff." I've been plodding through a geography report in the wild ranges of Iran all afternoon more or less, so I'm a tad weary and wary...but hey, anything with Connor and geography mixed has got to be at least a little fun. I'll just see if he can spot the Zagros mountains or Mount Damavand. Or the Dasht-e Lut (a desert in eastern Iran.) oh ho ho, I feel so intelligent. Its almost to the pedantic point.
The smell of popcorn is wafting into my nostrils...the sophisticated characters of P&P are discussing the graces of accomplished women...I can hear giggling and munching from the other room. My lips are chapped. The air conditioner has just come on. I think I'll go...perhaps travel to a far off land with my dear beloved brother.
Oh, but we're starting fireworks now :) I've got to let it go.
It's fun watching a bunch of giggling girls and wondering if my 11th birthday was like this. I think so, but can't remember the particulars. I know that I had four friends over, just like this...but we didn't spend the night in the tent. The conversations are interesting. Here are a few tidbits.
"I love going to the dentist"
"The doctor gives you candy if you're really good and don't cry, but the dentist only gives you mints."
"sometimes he gives you a toothbrush."
"You mean you've never had your teeth cleaned at the dentist?"
"Why don't you ever go to the dentist?"
"Does anybody need another napkin?"
"Uh, I could use some water"
"And I'd like some more apple juice please."
"I'll take dr. Pepper"
"Ooh! I want some coffee! I always have coffee after meals"
"I picked brown because I never see you wearing black."
"It's time for fireworks!"
"This is the worst fireworks show I've ever seen." (Before it starts)
POP! POP! POP!!! Bam BAM BANG! (light spewing forth)
Eeeee!! OOoooo! Ahhhh!
(Giggles and other loud noises)
Yeah...there were funnier things but I can't remember them now. We took a walk in the dark, the five giddy girls trailing along, arm in arm, with Ethan hovering nearby. They all were wearing pink and blue hankies (party favors.) Connor, Mom, Dad, and I amused ourselves by quoting the new favorite movie of the month, Hoodwinked ("Can't believe I'm sayin' this, but...drink up.") Then Dad put a (rather large) balloon under his shirt and said it was his burger belly. More amusement :)
The girls are now engrossed in the newer version of Pride and Predjudice, and the flood of chatter and gurgling has ceased momentarily. Connor wants me to play a "geography game" with him. Considering that we don't have anything you could categorize as a geography game (with the exception of Risk, maybe), I was kind of wondering what he meant. "I just thought maybe we could get out the atlas and do mountain ranges and stuff." I've been plodding through a geography report in the wild ranges of Iran all afternoon more or less, so I'm a tad weary and wary...but hey, anything with Connor and geography mixed has got to be at least a little fun. I'll just see if he can spot the Zagros mountains or Mount Damavand. Or the Dasht-e Lut (a desert in eastern Iran.) oh ho ho, I feel so intelligent. Its almost to the pedantic point.
The smell of popcorn is wafting into my nostrils...the sophisticated characters of P&P are discussing the graces of accomplished women...I can hear giggling and munching from the other room. My lips are chapped. The air conditioner has just come on. I think I'll go...perhaps travel to a far off land with my dear beloved brother.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Spring Break Tidbits
The God who said "Come to me" is still saying come. And calling me by name. Check out Isaiah 43:1 (or 2?)
"Fear not, for I have redeemed you. I have summoned you by name; you are mine."
Fear not. I don't have to ever be afraid of anything...including hypothetical scary things like
being locked in a boxcar
being embarressed
being in a house fire
being forgotten
being unloved
getting sick and throwing up
hurting people
being too timid
going to dentist
doing the wrong thing
not knowing enough
talking to people
taking the SAT
Anything. And that redeemed part...oh it keeps making me cry. In quiet moments, or when music is playing...I remember that I'm forgiven, and that I'm not able to do anything on my own. I have to be near my Savior.
Spring Break has been pleasant and restful so far. I'm still teaching Bronwyn and Broderic this week (or was, the past three mornings) but school is on hold. I'm fascinated by the rate Rodgy and Bron are progressing...and it really just has to do with all the reading they're doing. We go through the same old routine every week, and somehow, like eager young onion stems sprouting secretly out of our winter garden, they are reading with more and more ease. Especially Bron, since she wants to do it at the moment...Rodgy is extremely smart and capable, but sometimes disinterested. I'm so proud of them both.
Honestly, a lot of teaching is coming the other way, too. Since I'm totally inexperienced with this, I'm just learning a lot about kids, communication, and suchlike. Not to mention getting to experience rare and comical moments that come along in a family of five kids (with one on the way.)
A few days ago...(and I almost hesitate to write this...but not enough. Its just such a perfect example of life as a ten year old boy. I've seen it in my brother, but am realizing that it's quite universal) A few days ago, Rodgy whizzed through his phonogram drill (saying the sounds of the letters) and made a perfect score, knocking off his afternoon phonogram practice. He was extremely happy about it. " Rodge saves the day!" he exclaimed, and, bolting out of his chair, proceeded to flex his bared muscles to the max. As he strained harder and harder and his buffness became more and more exceedingly apparent, he suddenly let out a most resounding, shall we say, "roar from below..." I mean, the windows SHOOK! The three of us gasped with laughter for the next five minutes. The next morning Bron piped up..."Rodge, see if you can do that again!" "No," he replied placidly, "I'm out of gas."
I have much more to write, but am out of time. bye!
"Fear not, for I have redeemed you. I have summoned you by name; you are mine."
Fear not. I don't have to ever be afraid of anything...including hypothetical scary things like
being locked in a boxcar
being embarressed
being in a house fire
being forgotten
being unloved
getting sick and throwing up
hurting people
being too timid
going to dentist
doing the wrong thing
not knowing enough
talking to people
taking the SAT
Anything. And that redeemed part...oh it keeps making me cry. In quiet moments, or when music is playing...I remember that I'm forgiven, and that I'm not able to do anything on my own. I have to be near my Savior.
Spring Break has been pleasant and restful so far. I'm still teaching Bronwyn and Broderic this week (or was, the past three mornings) but school is on hold. I'm fascinated by the rate Rodgy and Bron are progressing...and it really just has to do with all the reading they're doing. We go through the same old routine every week, and somehow, like eager young onion stems sprouting secretly out of our winter garden, they are reading with more and more ease. Especially Bron, since she wants to do it at the moment...Rodgy is extremely smart and capable, but sometimes disinterested. I'm so proud of them both.
Honestly, a lot of teaching is coming the other way, too. Since I'm totally inexperienced with this, I'm just learning a lot about kids, communication, and suchlike. Not to mention getting to experience rare and comical moments that come along in a family of five kids (with one on the way.)
A few days ago...(and I almost hesitate to write this...but not enough. Its just such a perfect example of life as a ten year old boy. I've seen it in my brother, but am realizing that it's quite universal) A few days ago, Rodgy whizzed through his phonogram drill (saying the sounds of the letters) and made a perfect score, knocking off his afternoon phonogram practice. He was extremely happy about it. " Rodge saves the day!" he exclaimed, and, bolting out of his chair, proceeded to flex his bared muscles to the max. As he strained harder and harder and his buffness became more and more exceedingly apparent, he suddenly let out a most resounding, shall we say, "roar from below..." I mean, the windows SHOOK! The three of us gasped with laughter for the next five minutes. The next morning Bron piped up..."Rodge, see if you can do that again!" "No," he replied placidly, "I'm out of gas."
I have much more to write, but am out of time. bye!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
