Books

I am in the process of reviewing the books my junior high students read each year. I did at least skim read them before I purchased six copies of each for my literature circles. Some I have read thoroughly. I have chosen two sets of book titles based on wars. I don't know that this is a good thing but the coming of age theme is always a good idea for junior high and nothing grows a child to adulthood like war! For all of my themed studies I've tried to choose books that range from about a 5th grade level up through 8th or 9th grade. I haven't gone higher than this, even though I have many students who are post high school in their reading abilities, because my goal is to teach the literary elements through these novel studies. It does seem to be working and my students enjoy the freedom of discussing their books in small groups.

I would like to develop a study revolving around the American War for Independence but for now, my students read Johnny Tremain by Esther Forbes and Mr. Revere and I by Robert Lawson. Johnny Tremain is an old classic that does a great job of developing characters as well as introducing a lot of historical characters and events in a realistic manner. Students read this early in the year and learn to write a character analysis as well as pick up lots of history along the way. A couple years ago, I taught this to one of my classes early in the year and the other class a couple months later. The US History teacher was complimenting the class of students who had read the novel, saying they were so well prepared for their study of the American Revolution, especially compared to the other class which knew little or nothing. I really hesitate to use this book because it is such an easy read but I'm still doing it. If I ever find another than presents the subject as well on a higher reading level, I'll buy it.

My first themed study for literature circles is the Civil War. Students read a range of books including Red Cap by G. Clifton Wisler, Elijah of Buxton by Christopher Paul Curtis, Freedom Crossing by Margaret Goff Clark, Across Five Aprils by Irene Hunt, Rifles for Watie by Harold Keith, and Which Way Freedom by Joyce Hansen. I'm on the lookout for two more so if anyone has a recommendation, bring it on! This, of course, introduces the whole concept of slavery and our discussions are intense! I'm sure it helps to live in the Northwest; we can be incensed, appalled, and probably a bit arrogant in our opinions since "we" didn't do it! It's a good time to inform junior high students that slavery, especially child slavery, still exists today and that we need to do all we can to eliminate this horror!

Toward the end of the year I introduce World War II or Holocaust novels. There are tons of these but I have a new favorite: I Am David by Anne Holm. We read others such as The Diary of a Young Girl - Anne Frank, Behind the Secret Window - Nelly S. Toll, Daniel's Story - Carol Matas, and The Hiding Place - Corrie Ten Boom, but I Am David is quite a special story. It grips me that he had to teach himself to smile. Although just a momentary pause in the overall story, David's fear for an infant was palatable. He couldn't remember seeing a baby so small and and knew she could not defend herself or know enough to be invisible around them. I love his decision to have a God and how he calls upon "the God of green pastures and still waters to help him" - to become his compass. David is quite a believable kid, doing unbelievable things. Sadly, the more I read of this era, the more the unbelievable becomes the expected.

Another book I really, really like is A Single Shard by Linda Sue Park. I teach this as a class novel study. We have several Korean students who are a part of our junior high and I really wanted to introduce a book that would honor their culture and inform our students. A Single Shard portrays a 12th century, homeless, Korean, peasant boy who longs to become a potter. The ethics taught in this book are fabulous! Poverty is no excuse for lying, stealing, or doing wrong in any way. One of my personal goals for my students is to help them to kick it up a notch, to do the right thing because it is right not easy. This book is a great reinforcement for that idea. It is with this book that I teach writing a research paper with bibliography and all. I just picked up six copies of another Park book: Archer's Quest. I'll admit it, I bought it without reading more than the back cover. I also want to buy her novel The Kite Fighters but haven't done so as yet.

I teach a lot of other books throughout the year. I love teaching English through literature. I do have a basal series but I pick and choose what I use (not much). I also have the Write Source curriculum, the Wordly Wise workbooks (love them, even though it is random vocab). WW is a quick way to learn roots, antonyms and synonyms, prefixes and suffixes, and analogies. My students maintain reading journals with the help of 35 questions I found somewhere on the internet, actually I've compiled this list of questions from many I've found on the web.

I teach a Writer's Workshop as well. I love using Gail Carson Levine's book Writing Magic for mini-lessons. It's such a practical book but that's another post for another day. Time to get moving - the sun is shining!!! And that's a big deal in Washington state!

Life in the Park

Yesterday my husband and I went to Frye Cove County Park. This is so out of the way that I didn't even know it existed! We went for a short hike, down to the inlet, and just up and down trails in general. The vegetation is so dense that there were actually few birds in the area. But the forest smell was heavenly and the beauty of the water and mountains in the distance: breathtaking!

I live in a residential area that resembles a park. It's called Timberlake. The word says it all - we are surrounded by evergreens that are 40-50 feet tall and six houses down hill, at the end of my street, the lake begins. The development is about 50 years old. Our house is 42 years old. The houses in this development are pretty much all simple ramblers, ranch-style homes of about 2000 square feet on quarter acre lots. It's so nice to have space around us for the trees and gardens. We have deer, raccoons, squirrels, rabbits, tons of birds. One neighbor saw a coyote near the lake last week. We are on the migration routes for ducks and geese, thanks to the long lake, I'm sure. Living in the northwest is so different from other parts of the USA. It's a lot cooler for one thing. This morning, at nearly 9 o'clock, it's not yet 60 degrees and the sounds and smells are quite reminiscent of yesterday's walk in the park. I actually hear and see more birds and the water is fresh water, not salt water, but the beauty of life in the park is quite the same. I love the peace and serenity it brings.

A Different Perspective

I noticed people posting TGIF on their Facebook entries today and thought to myself, "It's Friday?" That is one of the things that happens to me when summer vacation hits, I don't know what day of the week it is and I certainly couldn't tell you the date! Well that's not quite true - today is June 25th and I know this because yesterday was the 24th, my Gracie's second birthday. We began our morning with her. Actually, she's in France - lives there with her parents - but through the wonder of iChat we were able to sing "Happy Birthday" and watch her open her present from us, a tricycle! Thank you Amazon.fr! Oh we miss her, but we are so very thankful for the gift of technology that allows us to see and experience her life in real time!

It is certainly different to live overseas these days. When we first left the states, I determined to stay in contact with my family so I began writing 'family letters' using six sheets of typing paper, carbon paper, and my manual typewriter! Good grief! It has not been 30 years yet but when was the last time anyone had a thought about a typewriter. I tried to explain it to Kayla one day, telling her that I had to push a lever to get to the next line of type - she was so confused. Anyway, my family letters... I always felt sorry for the person who received copy number six and would try to rotate the receiver so that everyone had the opportunity of receiving a clear copy at some time during the year. But my mother always received the first copy, the truly typed copy. She was, and still is today, my hero! But that's another post.

My family letters were blogs of sorts, rambling entries of our days, cute sayings from the boys, odd moments of loneliness or happiness, depending on our state of being at the time. We were in Haiti when the internet became a true force in the modern world. We never thought it could work in Haiti - but it did - and it revolutionized communication in that poverty infected nation forever. What a tool it was post-earthquake. I spent literally hours every day connecting needs with resources via the internet. What a difference it made! A-m-a-z-i-n-g!

So... right... today is Friday, June 25, 2010. I normally write the date on the whiteboard in my classroom each morning. During school I know what day it is, what the date is... but now, I am enjoying my summer vacation. Every tiny moment I have! I'll get back to knowing the date in a few weeks.

Speaking Truth Into Existence

Last Saturday, Sierra turned three. This is an amazing child. She is a creator - according to her father, Sierra speaks truth into existence. Earlier last week, I spent the day with Sierra. We did all kinds of fun things together but at some point, we talked about her approaching birthday. I asked her if she was going to have a party and she emphatically responded, "Yes! I am going to have a Princess Party!" I was impressed. This little girl loves playing with trucks in the sand, throwing baseballs with her brother and father, doing anything the big kids are doing, and she loves to dance. Whenever she decides to dance, she puts on a beautiful, pink, organdy dress that just floats. That's the only time she is princess-ish so for her to have a Princess Party - that's a big deal. So I asked her who was coming to her party and she told me that I would be attending her party. Hmmm... really? So why hadn't her mother told me about it? The next time I saw her mom, I mentioned the Princess Party. She didn't know a thing about it. There was no Princess Party... there was no party! I was concerned; my granddaughter was expecting a party. I asked if I could plan just a family party for her and her mother was delighted that I wanted to do this. So I went to Target... I love Target... and bought everything I needed for a Princess Party. Saturday, her birthday, I sent my husband to the store for beautiful cupcakes. I can make cupcakes but I don't have the patience to make beautiful cupcakes. I had purchased a cupcake holder that sets them up in tiers - very cool. Then I remembered that Sierra had mentioned a balloon and I hadn't told my husband to get a balloon! I called - I love cell phones - and he told me that he had purchased a package of them. What a guy! Thinking in the store, not after he got home! T came home, blew up balloons, tied three of them to the lamppost and scattered the rest over the entryway floor. We were ready. Sierra came in, followed by her brother and sister and her parents. We had a great day - a wonderful party - relaxing, celebratory, just perfect. Later, I was talking with my son about the party that almost wasn't and he informed me that Sierra does that... she speaks truth into existence. In the most matter of fact way possible she simply says what she thinks needs to happen. And she says it again and again and again until it does happen. Amazing. I am so glad she did because the entire day was perfect. It was a Party fit for a Princess and the entire royal family.

New Summer Book Club

I have just organized a new summer book club. I actually began the process just before school was out so we would be ready for our summer vacation. There are only two members in this club: Me... and my granddaughter, Kayla. I am so excited! She is a great reader but I wanted to share some of my childhood faves with her so we are starting this Wednesday with Betsy-Tacy by Maud Hart Lovelace. We will do lunch, somewhere nice, chat about the book (which she read in a couple days) and then head to a book store. I have a gift card that a wonderful parent gave me as a thank you for dealing with her difficult son. I SO earned that card! Kayla also had a difficult year at school this year. Her teacher was a down-sized administrator who was angry at the budget cuts that put him back in the classroom. It was NOT the year I had hoped she would have, especially in fourth grade, such a pivotal year. There's not much I can do to help her with math but I can build her understanding of literature and introduce her to more writing ideas. Although, thankfully, the writing specialist has not been eliminated so she still receives a ton of encouragement and instruction in writing. I am really hoping that my summer book club becomes a tradition for us. This child is God's special gift to me. I have four younger brothers, married a man with two brothers, gave birth to two sons, and when my firstborn announced that his wife was pregnant, I dared to hope (yep, I even prayed) that I would be buying pink! And there she was - my Kayla Rose - first flower in a garden of little girls plus one lone boy... until this fall when his first male cousin enters the world. So I have some work to do as I plan my first club meeting. I want to see what she knows about the elements of literature and discuss them, one or two at a time. I also need to choose book two. And I just want to enjoy my little girl who will be ten years old in August. She is growing up so fast and I don't want to miss a moment of this joy that she so freely gives me! (deep, contented sigh)

Blessed

I feel so blessed. It's literally embarrassing how blessed I feel. I know that life has not been easy; I'm not saying that. I am saying that through everything, God has richly blessed us by walking with us - holding hands kind of walking.

Early in our marriage, my husband developed a fever of undetermined origin. He spiked at 106.5 degrees for seven weeks. The doctors were helpless to heal him; they just treated it, doing all they could to bring it down. Meds didn't work but ice wraps and such helped. We went overseas as missionaries and twice in the six years that we lived in Martinique, the fever returned. Our doctor (yes, socialized medicine and all) was able to find a medication that worked, bringing the fever down to around 102 degrees. The first time it hung on for four and a half weeks, the second time about two weeks. It never returned.

While he was in college, our older son fell from a fence top on a construction site, broke some ribs, but missed the rebar sticking out of the concrete block where he fell... missed it by a couple inches. A few years later, our younger son was in a terrible car accident on icy roads. He was driving my cousin's BMW. Just before pulling onto the road, he noticed that his cousin didn't have her seatbelt on and he waited while she hooked it up. Seven minutes later they were up-side-down in a ditch. They walked away with a scratch on his hand where he had hit the window glass in order to make enough room to crawl out of the car. My cousin had planned to sell that car; insurance gave him $2000 more than what he was going to ask for it.

In December 2001, my dad had a stroke. He had been having TMIs over time but this one was bigger. He was in rehab, seemed to be doing well, and it was time for my husband and I to return to Haiti for the two week marathon of annual meetings. Eleven meetings in twelve days all over that country. My younger brother kept calling and asking me to come home instead. He was the only one of my four brothers who insisted that I come, the only one who didn't think my dad would go home again. I prayed and decided to listen to my brother. My husband went to Haiti and I flew into Seattle. For a week and a half, all was well with my father and it seemed that my trip was not really necessary. On January 15th, during rehab, the blood clot in my father's head cut loose and went to his heart. The therapists couldn't elevate my dad enough so I climbed onto the rehab table and held him in my arms. I talked to him, prayed with him, and let him go home to heaven. My brother was right... my dad died at the very moment I would have been landing in Seattle if I hadn't changed my plans.

Less than three years later my husband was diagnosed with an extremely rare cancer. We went to various specialists in Miami for five months while each new physician repeated the tests already given by the others. Finally in frustration, we contacted MD Anderson Cancer Center, a part of the University of Texas hospital system, and self-referred. Within two weeks (August) T was accepted as a patient. Within a month (September) he was scheduled for surgery. By the end of the year he lost his right eye, endured six weeks of daily radiation, and began a five year journey of trips to Houston TX for follow-up testing. In 2009 he was set free from the process and told to live his life.

Today is Father's Day 2010. This morning my husband preached in a church whose pastor is on sabbatical. He spoke from John 13, the ministry of the towel - servant leadership. I sat in church and thanked God for walking with us, for giving us opportunities to experience His intimate presence. I thanked Him for giving us the strength to continue in ministries that are very fatiguing yet so important: equipping the next generation to be Christ-like leaders through Christian Education.

Recently, I have been following the blogs of several people who are in the depths of suffering. Nearly all have children who have been afflicted with cancer or a traumatic brain injury. I do not know any of these people personally but I pray for them, for their kids, for their minds to be renewed. I am so grateful to know God intimately. These people will also get to know Him better than they ever imagined possible. I am also grateful for this moment in time, a reflection on what has gone before and a time to give thanks.

It's Father's Day 2010. My father is in heaven. My husband is here with me. My two sons, both fathers, are with their children, loving, caring, providing for them. I am blessed. It's embarrassing how very blessed I am and I am so grateful for the blessing. Thank you God, my Father.

It's here!

I have been sooooooooooooooooo ready for this school year to finish and it is finally over! What a trying year! I think there are layers of frustration that have rendered this year as one of my least favorite of all time. Things like a homeroom of non-speakers, normally I like a quiet class but this batch took an entire semester to warm up to each other. There was the earthquake in Haiti that possessed my mind for weeks and months, making my teaching less effective because I just wasn't "present" in the way that I needed to be. There were the expulsions in both junior high and the high school; both were LONG overdue and nearly went unnoticed.

But summer vacation is here. I have 80 days beginning today before I walk into a classroom of students again. I am going to do something significant every day. Today I will go to my mother's, work in her garden planting and weeding, then take her out to lunch. I am determined that each day will have significance because I really need it and I know that if I bring purpose into these days, they will seem to last longer! Also on my agenda, a baby quilt for a new grandson who will be born in France next fall. My heart aches that I won't know him early but it is interesting that it was the grandsons who were born at a time when we could not be present. We were there for each of the granddaughters' arrivals. Maybe my little boys are made of tougher stuff... nah... not so much!

Time to move out of my leather recliner and into the sunshine. Thank the Lord for summer vacation!

I hate it when that happens!

I feel soooooo stupid! I left the door to the upright freezer ajar--- all night! So instead of enjoying a leisurely Sunday afternoon, I have been throwing away thawed food, relocating still frozen foods, and defrosting a really icy freezer. Almost done! I guess it needed doing; it's been four years. Four years! I have lived in this house, in this city, in this state for four years! For a person who spent a quarter of a century living in places where people don't normally speak English, this is just weird. But I've always been able to adapt and this has been the easiest adaptation so far. Guess I'd better go finish cleaning the freezer!

The Last Week

I will admit it, I am really looking forward to the last week of school, as in: Friday, 3:15 PM. This has been a very difficult year. Really bright students have had a hard time settling into learning. I've struggled myself, trying to find something that will work so these kids will be as prepared for high school as the two previous classes I sent on from this junior high. I'm not sure I've been successful. I guess I'll know next year. But I do have some thoughts on why this year has been so difficult.

Fear. Anxiety. Stress. I don't remember a time when it has been so evident. I know our country went through a difficult recession in the mid-to-late 70s but the lack of non-stop, multiple-channeled, cable TV and the constant message of fear allowed us to focus on other things. I do think we have been bombarded with the things that sell cable news and most of that has been negative. There is proof positive that our nation is working its way out of the mire we found ourselves in in 2007-2008 but the good news does not sell like bad news does. This fear has become a factor in the lives of our school families. I teach in a private school and most of our families have experienced little change financially but they don't act like it. Their stress levels deeply affect their children, who bring their internal pressures into the classroom. Everything is exaggerated to the point that marriages are crumbling like we haven't seen before this year. Were they cracking before this? Probably. They just needed this last push to break them apart. It absolutely breaks my heart to see students hurting so much. No wonder they are having a hard time with school.

Regardless, we've all worked like slaves, doing our best to give our students a quality education and a ton of support. And I am ready for a break. I am ready for summer sunshine that has not yet appeared for more than a few hours at a time. I am ready to sleep past six in the morning. I am ready for bright flowers, walks near the lake with the love of my life, chats with my mother, hugs from the grands. Five days and this should begin, my summer reality. I am just so ready!

Granddaughter Kayla's Poem - 4th grade

Sunny weather's in the air, and birds are singing too.
Pots of flowers bloom again, purple, pink, and blue.
Rhyming birds from forest layers,
Ice melts in the bright, bright sun.
New sounds come from baby birds.
Great things happen to my world.

A weekend of many things

Yes, many things have happened during this three-day Memorial weekend but rest... nope, not so we noticed! Our children are out of town, together, for the first time in a very long time, and we are on grand-duty. It's been non-stop activity. Our grandchildren do not sit quietly and read books; they get on their bikes and ride over "jumps" that they've constructed in the driveway. They don't sit among a million pieces of legos and create machines; they build huge forts among the trees with branches, ropes, fern fronds for a roof, and chunks of firewood for seating - all of which last for days. They don't walk sedately through their backyard forest; they climb onto the trampoline and bounce up to the sky with flips and other gyrations. These kids have an energy level that is epic, like their dad's, and uncle's, and if I'm going to be honest, like their grandpa and grandma's.

Yeah, we are to blame. My husband and I are very high energy people. We went through all the psych testing before heading overseas and were told that we were - abnormal - with an energy level that was so high that we would be tempted to think others were lazy. We were counseled to realize that we are not normal and that those who seem to run out of steam while we're still going strong, those people are the normal ones. Maybe that's why at this age (pushing the sixth decade soon) he's just become a high school principal and I continue to teach junior high! We still have quite a bit of energy to burn. When two people like us, come together and create children, well, those kids are really high energy. Our sons make us look like we're standing still. The only salvation for our grandchildren is that our sons married very calm women. Sigh... thank heavens!

So three days with these children make for some incredible memories. Oh how I love my grandchildren. One of the lies I believed earlier in my life was that by serving overseas, I would rarely get to spend time with my family. We never imagined moving back to the states but here we are, only a 15-minute drive from our little ones. I thank God daily for this time. I love investing in these kids, letting them see sheer joy on my face when they bound into a room. Playing and praying with them, solving problems creatively, participating in special celebrations. What a blessing for us, and I would dare say, for them. They know that they are loved with a crazy, passionate, unconditional love. Hopefully our love will help them have a glimpse of God's love for them. At least they will never doubt that they are capable of being loved. And we realize that we are also blessed recipients of the holy, innocent, pure love of a child... of four, soon to be five grandchildren. What glory!

Rain, rain... you know the rest

I live in the Evergreen State and it is called this because... it's really green! And it's green because... it rains... and rains... and rains! At least for the past several weeks it has just been all about the rain. Today I was on an all-junior high field trip to a local college for their science carnival. It's a great trip. Last year was so much fun! It was sunny and the kids had such a great time on the campus as well as participating in the workshops. This year the rain changed the entire dynamic of the day. It just wasn't all that much fun. I wore a coat but it wasn't as waterproof as it should have been. I am going to have to invest in a real raincoat! As I stood in the drippy rain, my mind wandered to where I used to live, an island some four thousand plus miles away, where it is now rainy season and people are living in their bed-sheet shelters, in the pouring rain. What misery! One might believe that the tropical weather would make it more bearable. It's a warm rain. No, it really wouldn't help, not at all. It's still wet and when evening comes, it would feel quite cold. Oh God, provide... shelter them under your wings.

Coming to an end!

And not a moment too soon! I don't know about anyone else but this has been a tough year in the classroom! I spoke with the youth pastor of a local church tonight and he said this has been his most difficult year ever in ministry. Society in general has suffered this year. It is a crisis of inflated proportions in some ways. The fear generated by the constant media attention to negative issues continues to undermine people's basic sense of well-being. I know it's been a hard year for many people (totally disregarding Haiti here - that's epic and not even a part of this discussion) but overall most people are doing just fine. However no one feels secure and it's because we are looking in the wrong places for our security. In our rather small school alone, there have been so many divorces this year. Out students are struggling because they don't have a sense of stability. Time to get serious, focus on the essentials, and realize just how blessed we are! That said, there are eleven in-class days left in this school year. I am really on the count-down! Summer!!!! Where are you??? Hurry up!!!!

True Friends!

I have always believed that true friendship survives any obstacle. My friendship with M. is proof of that statement. We each come from different parts of the states but worked in the same school in the same third world country, are members of different denominations with different theological positions, had children who loved each other - then didn't, moved the same year to different regions of the country and haven't been together for ten years! And then M. came to my state for a quick trip. We literally picked up our relationship as though we had spent the previous week teaching school together. We share similar feelings about teaching and literature and how to make the two come together in the lives of schoolkids. We like the same foods, well almost, she doesn't like olives and I don't like onions. And we sure can talk together! Her husband asked me if my jaws were sore. He said he figured we had talked non-stop for 48 hours. My husband apologized for not joining in our conversations but said that he had exhausted his quota for words long before we were finished! Our time together was refreshing and fun. It helped renew my spirit - I am just so grateful for true friendship.

Thoroughly Blessed!

I am one of the fortunate few, so very blessed! That became very apparent to me this morning in church. We are visiting the churches where our students worship and this morning were in a Foursquare Church called Living Water. The worship was upbeat and enjoyable; the message was quite good but the blessing part came at the end. The pastor shared words from the Lord for mothers who were experiencing difficult days. He shared particular verses: for the mother who had lost a child, for the one whose child was far from the Lord, for the mother who was estranged from her child, for the mother of a child who was sick with an incurable illness, for the one whose child suffered from one of many acronyms like fasd, rad, adhd, and many others, and even one for the woman who desperately wanted to be a mother but was unable to conceive. As I listened to those verses and prayed silent prayers for those mothers, a deep sense of gratitude filled my heart. I am so blessed for I am the mother of two sons who are whole, healthy, serving the Lord, and love me completely. Today, this mother is thanking God for His abundant blessings!

Never again!

Never again will I take any medical test for granted. Over five years ago, my husband found a small lump on his eyelid. It wouldn't go away so one day I gave him a choice, he could call the ophthalmologist and make an appointment or I would do it for him. It turned out to be a very deadly cancer and while we were fortunate because the tumor grew outward not inward, it meant a terrible surgery that would take his eye and eyelids, nerves, muscle, and tissue - virtually everything in that right orbit. After five years of follow-up, he was released from M.D. Anderson Cancer Center at the University of Texas Medical Center and told to go live his life.

So lately, when he was having some recurring tummy trouble with no apparent origin, I started nagging. He finally gave in and went to the doctor. Now he's rather irritated with it all because he thinks we've wasted money for unnecessary medical care; all his tests were normal. I told him to let it go because it was worth every penny to me just to know he is not hydrating enough!

I suppose we will never face any medical procedure without that nagging concern in our minds. Cancer. Once that road has been walked, nothing is quite the same. I still remember how shocked I was at his prior diagnosis. It never entered my mind that this man, who weighs within ten pounds of what he weighed the day we were married almost 37 years ago, who eats right, exercises, is devoted in daily prayer and meditation... that this man would have cancer! But I have this theory. We are children of God who have been called to go. For 25 years that meant working in mission outside the USA. Toward the end of that 25 years, it meant going to an amazing cancer hospital in Houston TX and living our lives as a positive witness for Christ among people who were dying or caring for the dying. We listened to countless stories, comforted many who were suffering, spoke in self-deprecating ways that allowed others to be comfortable around us. My husband's doctor, an amazingly brilliant Iranian woman, commented about my husband's strong faith in her written case report. A cancer hospital is a mission field like no other. For five years we walked with people who were far more needy than my husband and tried to show them Jesus. God calls us to go and we don't always get to choose where we go. But as we go, we need to allow Christ to live through us.

I will admit, I am thankful that séjour is over. Ministering to teenagers in the Christian School setting is challenging enough. But I will never again take any medical testing for granted; nothing is routine - not anymore.

Not Exempt

Missionaries are not exempt from suffering. I still remember the young woman who heard that my husband had cancer and was going through surgery and radiation. She was shocked, stating that she thought missionaries would be exempt from cancer. After all, we had left our families and homeland and were serving God in a foreign country. All I could think at that time was, "Wow! What a ridiculous statement." But I've had some time to think about it, a bit over five years. I really didn't know that person; maybe she was a new believer who hadn't read Hebrews yet. Maybe she was simply a church-goer, not a believer. I don't know and I'm rather sorry to say that I never got her contact info or even considered keeping in touch with her. As my students say, "My bad!"

Recently I read a blog written by a couple serving in Haiti. I don't know them but since my husband and I served in Haiti for eighteen years, I tend to read anything I come across that is written by those who are there. This young couple is suffering. Their suffering far exceeds what my husband and I experienced with this adenocarcinoma of the lacrimal gland. Their youngest child, Susana, has neuroblastoma, a deadly form of cancer that seems to uniquely attack children. I have now bookmarked this family's blog so I can follow and pray for them. My heart is extremely heavy for this family. I know the financial package most missionaries live with (read poverty level) and the insurance programs they are a part of (self-insured). It is really tough to experience this kind of personal trauma, especially when it deals with a child.

The truth is that God knows all about this. He knew it was coming, even their level of suffering. I have a very unpopular view of this kind of thing. I don't think Job was a unique character. I believe that all of us are fair game for Satan to attack at any time with hardship, illness, any number of difficulties. The only sense I could make of my husband's experience was that God had called us into that hospital, into that community of suffering people. And now God has called Susana's family. We need to pray for them. This is beyond traumatic! These people lived through one of the worst earthquake's in history, have been ministering to suffering people... probably around the clock. They are exhausted, traumatized themselves, and now they are suffering horribly. We are not exempt. We are called... called to go, to be, to suffer as Christ did.

This is what praying without ceasing is all about - every moment, all day, always.

Color-blind

I was just reading a link within a blog of someone I don't know, but she's a friend of someone I do know and trust so she's probably a really good person. I totally misunderstood a line in her blog, this one:

"Have I mentioned that I think the whole "colorblind to race" theory may not serve us well? Brendesha Tynes has some new research that suggests people who identify as colorblind are less sensitive to racism."

I was shocked! Fortunately I followed up my emotional reaction by reading the link and discovered that we don't mean the same thing when we use the word colorblind. I know the author of the blog is not racist; she is the mother of multi-racial children. And the author of the linked research is African-American so that's a non-starter too. But I believe there is a really good side to being colorblind... it's really, really being colorblind! Let me explain.

My family and I lived in the Caribbean for 25 years. The initial six of those years were in Martinique, a lovely French Caribbean island. Our boys were young when we lived there, four and eight when we arrived. They attended local schools, enjoyed camping, birthday parties, trips to the beach with friends; in general they lived a very normal life in another country. They were seven and eleven when we left for a year back 'home' in the states. We spent much of that year stateside visiting family and friends who supported our ministry in one way or another. I clearly remember a particular question and answer evening. All four of us were on the platform and one dear soul asked our children if they had any white friends or were all their friends black. I will never forget our youngest son's reaction. I wanted to cry! He was so confused. He looked at me and whispered, "Mommy, what does she mean? None of my friends are black." I tried to explain to him that some of his friends had a darker skin color than he did, that they were really, really tan! He was so upset and confused and argued the point, informing me that his friends were just like him! Sigh... he was/is a very light-skinned redhead! We let it go that evening but knew he would be asking questions. At seven, almost eight years old, our son truly did not see anything different about his friends. He was completely colorblind. The best kind of colorblind. When we revisited that conversation later, he was devastated to learn that there were differences that some people thought were a big deal. He specifically said, "I thought all my friends were just like me, that I was just like them." I tried to tell him that he was right and others were wrong. We talked about getting a cut and the blood being just the same. We talked about "white" people who were all different shades of skin color, hair color, eye color. It didn't matter; the lesson had been learned. We were different. It was a sad day, the loss of innocence.

I hate that. I detest bigotry and anything that makes people think that they have the right to act all smug and superior to others based on external anything! I have been appalled at the nasty, ethnic comments made about the president and others like him who are also civil servants. I cringe when I hear people use colloquial terminology denoting people of another race. Where in the world do we get these ideas? Who do we think we are? Why are people who spew this kind of nasty speech condoned even for a moment?

Recently Arizona passed a law giving police officers the right to demand proof of citizenship from anyone that they think might be an illegal alien. Even that word... alien... I think of creatures from Mars not people from Cancun or Acapulco! This new law is going to lead to some serious trouble. I can appreciate the critical financial difficulties that Arizona faces as they deal with so many illegal residents but there has to be a better way! I wish I knew what it was. Maybe we all just need to be a bit more colorblind.

Leftovers

Those of us who lived in Haiti for an extended period of time must deal with certain issues for years and years. We are marked by our experience. Some things that hit us are extremely positive such as the generosity and hospitality of the Haitian people but others nag at our spirit and sometimes make us weep. The one that got to me tonight was the leftovers.

I scraped the food from our dinner plates and serving bowls into the compost bucket. And I swear, the first thought that came into my head was, "I wouldn't be doing this if I still lived in Haiti." We never tossed food. Even moldy bread became chicken food. If there was as much as a tablespoon of mashed potatoes, it went into the fridge. We had people who worked for us who really wanted those leftovers and we gave them willingly. Actually, I never gave them directly to my workers. I would say something like, "Marie, I have this leftover food. I am sure you know someone who might want it. Would you take it for him/her?" And Marie did know someone - her daughter or her two sons for starters! But going through this "back-door" allowed Marie to hold onto a bit of human dignity. Sometimes, when you are quite poor, dignity is your only possession.

Last week was my stress-filled Spring Break and one of my mini-projects was to clean out the fridge. I tossed so many containers with little dabs of food, it wasn't funny. Most spoiled before we could eat them or we never wanted to eat them (again) anyway. So I promised myself that I wouldn't save the dabs anymore. But it is tough! My dad always got after me for not finishing my dinner. He would tell me about the starving children in China... and yes, just like you, I wanted to tell him to send it to them. So rude... But the truth is that once you've lived among starving people, you are changed. I still remember my older son's reaction to his first university food-fight. He absolutely raged at his friends and classmates after that experience. He was horrified that most people just didn't seem to care. We care, my husband, my sons, we care about those who are hungry. We do all we can to make a difference in their lives. And although saving the little dabs after dinner isn't going to help them, it certainly does hurt to throw it away.

Nope, I just couldn't do it!

I confess; I went to my classroom late this afternoon and worked for three hours. Today is the last day of Spring Break and I have stayed away more this year than any before. Ostensibly I went to set up the CD player we used to have in our house. Before he moved to France, our younger son gave us his flat screen tv and stereo/dvd/cd/surround sound media thingy that has everything in one unit. They use a totally different system over there. In order to properly "house" our old aiwa stereo, I needed to clear a place. In the process, I not only cleaned off a table that has needed some serious TLC since before Christmas, but also went through two big boxes of junk hidden under the table. I dumped a lot of paper stuff there just to get it out of my way. I sorted, filed, threw away a bunch of stuff, put other stuff into notebooks, and used my clorox wipes on every surface around my desk. I have the wipes sitting out so we can tackle the student desks first thing in the morning.

My white boards were ready to go before Spring Break, all charts were already up to date, my plans and copies were done ahead, so I'm ready. School starts tomorrow - the final countdown. I have nine weeks... 43 actual school days (I never count weekends or holidays). When I look at all I would like to do, I absolutely know I don't have enough time. This particular group of 8th graders never mastered basic grammar. I think it was neglected in earlier years and no matter how hard I have worked with them, they just can't seem to get it. So tomorrow, I'm going to start a project that I used with my very first class... of third graders! We're going to 'make' grammar books. They'll define the part of speech, write three example sentences, and illustrate or cut and paste pictures that represent that particular part of speech. My 7th graders are so far ahead of my 8th graders it's not funny but I bet they'll want to do this too once they hear about it. I may make it a tradition. I'm only spending this week on it. I've devoted more direct time to the parts of speech than I ever have before and I'm not going to do more than this.

I have a stack of WWII novels I want kids reading plus there is a novel based in 12th century Korea, A Single Shard, that we must do! As a private school, we receive several international students for a year or more of study. Most of our guest students come from Korea. I hunted for quite some time to find a book that I felt would not only highlight the antiquity of their country and culture but would teach our American students about the country in a way that would honor our Korean students. I love this book! The main characters are dirt poor and yet extremely ethical in all aspects of their lives. They are a complete contrast to the situational ethics that many countries, including our own, seem to accept. So a week from tomorrow, one 8th grade class will start this novel while the other begins literature circles with WWII novels. I'd prefer to do both at the same time but I'm short a few books. I may beg for more copies; it would make my life so much easier to only have one prep rather than two. And when the year comes to this point, I do want to make my life easier! There's so much 'stuff' that has to be done. We've already received the curriculum order sheets for next year. If we get our orders in early, we save $$$. I really do understand that, especially these days. Any---way--- here we go! The countdown is ON!