I am the luckiest

I have spent my morning lingering over coffee, curled on the couch reading for hours.  There was a half marathon in town today that ran though my neighborhood so I decided to delay any outings.  To sit and be has been so refreshing.

Even now, sitting on the couch I glance out the window and see bright and clear blue sky.  The green of the tall evergreens is stark against the blue.  The sun streams in, brightening the side of the house across the street.  Never before has it seemed so white, the trim of the windows so bold.  The tree outside my window waves a few leftover leaves at me, wind whistles under the roof of the porch like a swarm of insects.  The day looks warm, but I am not fooled - 50 degrees is still cold in my book.

Like this morning, yesterday truly was a day of small things.

I got some things done at the office, donning comfy clothes [cause it's Friday] and a second cup of coffee.  I was able to finish up a few projects I had going and, while things are always going on and up in the air, I ended my office time feeling satisfied.

I got to spend the afternoon with my [mostly] sweet students, laughing and eating crunchy noodles from atop a plastic bag, listening as small voices joined together to thank God before they began eating.

We danced through traffic, arms waving about our heads and our bodies bouncing in the seats, on our way to the bank for them to deposit their money.  Upon parking the van I see a familiar face making her way into the bank.  Honking gets me 10 minutes with my old college roommate, catching up with my van of students looking on and growing restless.  While they were waiting to go in, everyone stood outside in a parking space playing Simon Says and eating suckers.  We were barely in the car when it started to sprinkle.

As I drove a few of my students home, I got asked some pretty heavy questions.  What is cancer?  What is HIV?  How do you get them?  Why did Chris Brown hit Rihanna?  Is he in jail?  It's amazing the things 4th and 5th graders bring up, and I find the perspective of my ELL students to be the most interesting.  [Over Halloween, the big concern was poisoned candy, where it came from, how it got poisoned and why].  Although things can be hard to explain, and I certainly don't want to give answers that cause too much distress, I feel honored to be a part of the conversation.

As soon as I got home, I checked movie times and made the quick decision to go see a movie.  I had asked a few friends to join me earlier in the week but we couldn't all get together.  I saw About Time, and was actually glad that I saw it alone.  It's refreshing, sometimes, to do things alone.  After the movie was over, I chatted with another lady who had also come alone.  We talked outside the theatre for at least a half hour.

The drive home was quiet and warm for this time of year.  The moon was hanging low, bigger than I've seen in a while.  Almost perfectly round except for a sliver at the top, covered by a dark, thin cloud.  I tried to find a good spot to grab a picture, but couldn't; it would have never looked like the real thing anyway.

I've been trying to pay attention to the small things.  I want to be a noticer.  An appreciator.  It's got to be a habit; too much get lost in the daily grind.  The only want to make a habit is to practice, I suppose.

Knee Deep

I'm feeling knee deep in various projects.  I'm working on individualized SOL folders for my [28] students, plus the daily operations of our program.  I'm tutoring a second grader twice a week, trying to make homework interesting.  I'm seeking out opportunities to write.  I'm leading preschool play dates.  I'm delving head first into books, something I haven't done for quite some time.  I'm preparing for another [short] trip out of the country.  I'm meeting friends for dinner, teaching Sunday school, chatting with Jesus over coffee and coming to some realizations about myself and what I want.

My life is full.

I spend a good portion of my evenings contemplating worksheet ideas for my students, researching projects, drinking tea, reading and learning from others.  My students are not too happy about our new academic focus and really, who can blame them?  I'm still fumbling along blindly - I have no formal education or experience as an educator.  I get that they've sat in school all day and sometimes the last place they want to be is with me in after school, particularly the middle school students.  This project is in its infancy and worksheets are the go-to.  Hormones are raging and attitudes are sharp, and some days I feel like I spend more time defending than anything else.  There are days I feel incredibly overwhelmed and inadequate.  Is this really how it's supposed to go?

Despite the busy, the insufficient, the push back, I see the gift.  I see the small and the lovely, the special and cherished.  It comes wrapped in laughter as I tutor, causing us to lose all focus.  It comes in the face of a preschooler as he sticks is hand in paint and proudly smooshes it onto his paper.  It comes in strangers helping me load boxes of food to feed my students.  It comes in motivation and in falling exhausted into bed each evening.  It comes in the quiet and in the noise.

In light of that idea, I'm contemplating a shift on the blog.  Perhaps a new web address and title will roll out soon, providing a place for intentional reflection on the gifts I receive each day.

And boy, are those gifts abundant!

Silent Spectators

The Word became flesh and

made his dwelling among us.

-John 1:14

But you are not alone in this

And you are not alone in this

As brothers we will stand and we’ll hold your hand

Hold your hand

--“Timshel,”  Mumford and Sons

Two are red.  These tall patent leather ladies take me to networking events and nights on the town and often accompany a black-and-white striped dress for an added touch of color.  I have two that are orange and they might be my favorite even though they are a little too small.  In a style that never goes out, they compliment my dark jeans and carry me through lots of days at work.  I even have two that I’ve had since high school – old white ones that have tasted the dirt of four countries and countless miles of treadmill.  While I have lived in all these moments myself, the perspective my shoes have to offer would surely be different than my own.  After all, they can look around, see and smell and be aware of things that escape me while I’m engaging in whatever activity I’ve chosen.

Have you ever thought about where your shoes have been?  Coffee shops, kitchens, vacations, cars, bathrooms, bars, sidewalks, festivals, work, dates, the gym, restaurants (and that’s just a few!).  Almost everywhere you go, your shoes go also.  Think of all the things they’ve seen, smelled, heard and touched – the good and the bad. 

Before my trip to Ethiopia, we were prepared for some of the hard things we would see.  I looked at pictures and read as many personal accounts of others’ visits as I was able.  I had a pretty good idea what the streets were going to look like – rocky, with dirt packed down from the weight of the people that walked them daily, littered with the contents of life.  I knew I would need sturdy shoes for the journey, ones that wouldn’t be afraid to face the elements but would also maintain their integrity when faced with some difficult challenges. 

I chose a sturdy pair of New Balance sneakers.  I’ve had these shoes since high school and they still are one of my favorites.  White with some pink accents, I haven’t seen these shoes on the market since I bought them.  They have travelled with me domestically and internationally and have gotten down and dirty in three other countries.  They have wandered through cow pastures in Ireland and explored an abandoned castle, spent time tapping along to music at a Nicaraguan elementary school, and walked every inch of a rubber floor at a medical mission’s clinic set up inside a small church in Ethiopia.  I am proud of these shoes, of all they have seen and experienced.  I hope to take them on many more adventures.

But I was thinking, before and during my time in Ethiopia, about the significance of these shoes in my life.  While planning my 10 day wardrobe, I was conscious of the ability to leave things behind, clothing and toiletries, to be washed and used by missionaries and locals in the area.  Many things I packed I did so with the intention of leaving them behind.  Shoes are bulky and hard to pack and many times I thought about leaving these beloved world travelers behind to make someone else burden a little lighter.  They are good sturdy shoes, comfortable, and would certainly be a blessing to anyone lacking any sort of protection from the elements.

I even thought about what it would mean to bring them home.  These shoes would have trudged through dirt and mud, trash and other things I’d rather not think about.  Would it be sanitary to bring them home?  I suppose I could always wash them, but would any contaminants linger?

In the end, those white sneakers came home with me.  I have not washed them.  I can’t bring myself to do it, too much of that country remains with me.  Come to think of it, I don’t think I washed them upon my return from any international visit.  I’m not worried about any lingering impurities, knowing that it’s not only microscopic pieces of this adventure that remain with these shoes but the memories of those I touched while wearing them. 

Today’s message in church came from Romans 10, verses 8 to 15.  Here are just the last few verses:

¹⁴ How, then, can they call on the one they have not believed in? And how can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to them? ¹⁵ And how can anyone preach unless they are sent? As it is written: “How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!”

Those shoes have brought some good news; news I’m probably not even aware of, presented in a way I never would have expected.  So today, I’m thinking about shoes.  Not just the money it takes to get them and how I am blessed to have different shoes to accompany me to different occasions, but also the impact going somewhere can make.  Think of all the places we go every day, all the impact we could be making in those places.  And the impact we are making, whether we realize it or not. 

So go. 

Let your shoes take you somewhere today, foreign or familiar, and make an impact.

The Sound of Silence

I walked out of my apartment this afternoon to go to work and stopped.  For the first time all summer, there was silence.  It was a little shocking to be honest, as this must have been the locust year.  All season there's been noise, no matter the hour, of these insects loudly proclaiming their presence.  I'm not complaining - it's the sound of summer.  But to have it stopped so suddenly, I guess you never really know what you have till its gone.

Unfortunately the silence outside has no comparable resonance in my life right now.  There are meetings at work, conference calls, two months worth of activity planning, shopping and packing and laundry, new youth groups to start and familiar ones with which to reacquaint myself.  Even though the summer might not have been all I wanted it to be, it was wonderful and I'm going to miss the weather, the lazy pace of life.

So, to commemorate Summer 2011, some cell phone photos for your viewing pleasure.

Engaged 6.27.11

The Fair's in town - June 2011

Sunset from the mountain top July 2011

Moth outside work July 2011

Patriotism

Putt putt poses August 2011

Second to last game of the season August 2011

Awesome presentation on some yummy Chinese food Sept 2011

The Rivah 2011

The last few days were spent relaxing at the Rappahannock River at my aunt and uncle's place. I got to spend lots of time reading, practice my photography (something I've wanted to get back into), and chatting with family and friends. Here are some photos to help with the recap:

The sunsets were totally worth catching.  I made it to one every night except Monday night - a storm shut down our beach cookout party, so there was no sunset that I could see.  This one and the one following were from the 1st.

This is one of my favorites and was taken on the 2nd.

Here's Aunt Patty and the next door neighbor blowing bubbles.  Super fun times were had by all.

Taken at the Marina on the 2nd I think.

Boats and sunsets - that's how you know it's the Rivah

Some of Aunt Patty's beautiful flowers.

Golf carts are the main form of transportation, and you'll often see 10 or more at various locations around the grounds during the sunsets.  During the fireworks on the 3rd, there were at least 50 crammed in to watch.

On the 3rd every year, the community across the river pool their funds and shoot off fireworks for the campground.  There are just a few shots.  The show probably lasted about 15 minutes and the fireworks were pretty good size for being bought personally.  I really like this shot because it shows the boat too.

In the lower right corner you can get just a peek of all the carts that came out for the show.

Cake pops my aunt and I made.  Super easy recipe, and you can make them in a lot of different designs.  We tried to inject them with frosting but haven't gotten that down quite yet.  Super yummy regardless.

Dad and I on the jet ski.  This was the "before" picture.  The "after" picture ended with me sans sunglasses and a wet head from where the whole thing flipped over on us.  I lost my shades and almost my shoes but thank goodness Crocs float!  Dad got picked on for the rest of the trip, with neighbors calling him "flip" and "turtle".



The trip normally takes right at 4 hours to get there, but on the way home we ran into some random traffic on the interstate.  It was one of those things where you stop and creep along, then get back up to speed with no apparent reason as to why you had to stop.  We ended up taking a route through more towns, which I enjoyed, but it delayed us just a bit.  I am super glad to be getting back into a routine, and was excited to sleep in my own bed last night (only the second time I've been there for the last 2.5 weeks). 

Now it's time to play catch up and check some things off my to-do list. 

Snapshot: A Family

It's late and I instinctively hunch my shoulders as I make my way to the car in the rain.  The safety of the dry garage is maybe 5 feet from my car, but my feeble attempt to ward off the rain occurs without me registering it.  Although its dark and I can't see, I know exactly where I am, and I have no trouble envisioning the wide front yard and gray concrete driveway of my parents house.  I fumble with my keys, trying to unlock the car door in the angled stream of illumination from the flood lights.  Finally, the key slides into the keyhole and the lock makes that satisfying click, giving me access to a warm, dry space once again.

I slide the car into reverse and as I look back from the far corner of the long driveway, I see them.  My family.  Dad is in plaid shorts, wearing the green baseball hat that always covers his head while working outdoors.  He's leaning heavily against the frame of the garage door, the left leg bent behind the right, and although he looks relaxed I know he's as sturdy and enduring as the house he's built.  My brother stands behind my dad, his lean body hidden by his position and a large t-shirt bearing the name of a long dispersed high school rock band.  His peeking from behind dad with a comical expression on his face that took up permanent residence sometime long ago when he was a kid.  Mom is barefoot, wearing long shorts and a brightly colored t-shirt, standing slightly removed from the boys.  She's look every bit like the independent and strong woman I know her to be.

I switch the car into drive, my eyes never leaving the sight before me.  I inch forward and watch as three figures, silhouetted in the light, raise their hands and wave me on enthusiastically.  I recognize this as one of those moments in life I'd like a snapshot of, something to pull out when life causes me to forget my blessings.

As I drive away, I can't help but thank God for the supportive, loving, fun family He's blessed me with.  My heart swells with love and I continue down the road.

Letters from Home

The act of putting pen to paper encourages pause for thought, this in turn makes us think more deeply about life, which helps us regain our equilibrium. ~Norbet Platt

Today I did something I haven't done in a really long time - I wrote a letter to someone I didn't know.  Not just a cute card sent in to a friend at college, but an honest-to-goodness, handwritten on lined paper letter.

Not my pen, or my penmanship

Danielle, a friend of mine from college, had told me of a airman in her husband's basic training class that hasn't received any letters since the start of training.  She'd sent out a note asking if anyone would be willing to write to him, and without anything to fill my days lately, I had no reason not to say yes.

There's something romantic about handwritten letters.  I've always liked giving them and receiving them but nowadays it's much easier to power up a computer and send an instant email or message.  (I have at least two shoeboxes full of handwritten cards and letters that I've received since I was a kid).  I like to think about all the hands touching my letter, and the excitement the recipient will feel when opening it.

I love letters

I will admit, though, that the experience of writing to an unknown serviceman was more stressful than I'd imagined.  What do I write to someone I've never met?  (I'd also like to mention that not only have I never met him, I don't even know his full name - which means I'm also assuming the person I'm writing to is a he).  Danielle gave me some pointers, but I still wonder about the adequacy of my letter, although I'm sure any notes from home are much appreciated.

While I'm aware that I've romanticized much of (OK, all of) this situation, there is a part of me that hopes he writes back.  I mean, with songs out there like the Dixie Chicks' Traveling Soldier, and John Michael Montgomery's Letters from Home, what woman in their right mind could help but romanticize.  All morning I've thought about the person I've been writing to, wondering about him, and felt a bit like a WWII woman, working to keep our service men's moral high.  At the very least, I'll have a new friend and pen pal out of the deal.

I have also decided today to spend at least one day a week writing letters to people I love, local or not.  Who knows, maybe I'll be struck to do more than one a week.  I'll keep you posted...

Source

Thirty-two flavors and then some

Yesterday at 12:40 I walked out of my job for the last time.  While it was glorious and much needed, I will admit to missing the people (already) and being a little nervous about the new financial situation I find myself in.  But I believe it's better to be happy and a little strapped for cash than miserable with all the money in the world.

After I left work, mom and I went out for lunch, and I took her to a Mexican restaurant she's never been to.  We spent some time wondering around the mall, and when we were about half way through the journey we ran into her younger sister, who had stopped in to purchase some shoes for her husband for father's day.

Mom and I accompanied her to Finish Line, where I was hit hard with a realization.  Mom was looking at a pair of shoes when the sales person (a boy I went to high school with) approached her and started making his pitch.  The shoes mom was looking at were called Brooks, and apparently they can do everything but actually walk for you.  They have a thing in the arch that's supposed to stabilize your foot and make you walk straighter.  Then there's this button of air you can see on the sole of the heel that is supposed to adjust to the pressure on your feet when you step down.  The salesman talked for probably 3 minutes without taking a breath, just giving information about this high-tech, yet surprisingly normal looking shoe.

Credit

I wasn't really interested, so I started looking around the store and my upcoming trip to Ethiopia popped randomly into my head.  I thought of all the people in that country, and in the world, without shoes.  We're not talking shoes that adjust to your walking style or shoes to help you lose inches or shoes designed for a specific activity like walking or running.  Just shoes to keep your feet covered, protect you from the elements, maybe help you to be able to walk a few years longer.  Here I am, standing in a store with 25 bays of shoes, each of which probably has at least 20 single shoes on display.  That's 500 shoes on display alone.  That doesn't count the mates to those displays, or the various sizes stocked in the back, or the shoes on display on tables in the middle of the store.

My mind was blown.  I sat on a bench for a moment, trying to imagine what it would be like to be a person who had lived without shoes my entire life, and walking into a store like this. 

I couldn't.

Then my mind took it a little farther - this is just one store in the mall.  There are at least 3 other stores devoted solely to shoes in the mall, not to mention all the department stores and small chains that sell shoes too.  We could shoe an entire country without making a dent.

Realizations like this one make me incredibly sad and humble but blessed and motivated all at the same time.  There are so many days I go through without thinking about what I have, about all I've been given and privileged to, and I use those gifts to maintain or obtain my own selfish desires.

Does anyone else think about these things?  Surely I can't be the only one...

Back to Basics

Women usually love what they buy, yet hate two-thirds of what is in their closets.  ~Mignon McLaughlin

I'm on a mission to update my closet.  I feel like I have a more grown-up life now, living in my own place, working at my grown-up job (I discount the fact I could show up in sweat pants; even grown-up jobs need a little leeway), and need some "adult" clothes to show off my newly stated independence.  Of course, there's always that undeniable fact that my closet space has shrunk by approximately 2/3rds.  It might look like I'm complaining but really I'm ecstatic.  I've been wanting to simplify for sometime now (clothes as well as other facets of my life), and having reduced space is just the swift kick I need.

The goal is to buy some solid pieces for spring/summer to update my wardrobe, throw out some stretched out tee's, and not dread getting dressed in the morning. I need things I can mix and match, and as Kat informed me the other day, I'm sometimes not so good at matching (I like to think that's done out of choice and not ignorance, although I'll sometimes admit to both).

Em has this relaxed but professional and put together sense of style I envy.  I'm hoping our soon-to-be shopping trip will allow some of her expertise to rub off on me.  I was that freshman girl in high school in wide-leg pants and extra large tee shirts and part of me has never truly outgrown that phase.  I like to be comfortable and will choose comfort over style any day (honestly, who wouldn't?).  Right now I'm sporting slightly worn straight-leg jeans, a black and green plaid zip down pullover with a hood, and a light blue three-quarter sleeve tee.  See, the epitome of fashion.

What sparked this not-so-sudden desire to change my outward coverings, besides the magical shrinking closet, was a short shopping trip with Kat on Tuesday.  We made a quick lap around the mall before heading to Marshall's, mostly to look at the housewares section and dream about decorating.  I had decided a few weeks ago I wanted this summer to be the summer of skirts and flowing, girly clothes.  Kat was present when I first made this declaration, so we headed to look at skirts and dresses.  Long story short, I bought two (going almost double on my spending budget for the day).  They are both longish, falling below the knee.  One is black and white with a geometric pattern and the other is blue with a gauzy overlay and large schematic flowers skirting the bottom.

[no pun intended]

It's probably a good thing I don't get many new clothes because I was almost late for work trying on different combinations to find something that worked together.  In the end I left feeling rushed and a lot less confident in this spontaneous purchase than I had hoped.  I don't feel like I matched at all, pairing the blue skirt with olive and blue Tom's, and a coral colored top.  Live and learn, right?  I guess growing up in your wardrobe can be just as hard as growing up in other ways.

Any suggestions on how to pair things together and make smart spending choices?  My friend Brit and I are going shopping tomorrow before celebrating her birthday with dinner, and while I doubt I'll purchase anything, I've learned it's not safe to promise such things.