Beginnings: My Plan

*photo by renjith krishnan*

I have a plan.  And I am excited about it, so I hope it works out.  Of course, I will have to wait to see if it is God's plan.  He always has his own ideas...

I am going to teach in two different ways.

I am going to substitute teach for my children's school, which is kindergarten through ninth grade.  I cannot wait to work with all those kids, and I hope I get asked to cover every grade at some point, from the little bits to the too cool for schools.  This whole substituting is for my benefit, so that I can pick where to end up permanently.  Hopefully God is less selfish and uses me for good while I am experimenting with career choices.  Anywhoo, ....

While I am busy becoming the heroic substitute, I am also teaching during what the school refers to as Monday Enrichment.  York Preparatory Academy (YPA) ends school early on Monday.  I thought it was so the kids could take fun classes, but no.  It's so the teachers can have two hours of weekly professional development.  The fun classes are to offer something for kids to do when their parents don't want to show up early every Monday.  So, being that I prefer to be with kiddos as opposed to away from them (yes, I know some of you think I am crazy) I signed up to help.  Actually, I signed up to help this nine weeks while I write up a curriculum on the history of flight, how it works, and what cool stuff we can make to play with, therefore showing off all our newly acquired knowledge.  I have lots of books from the library, and this computer, so hopefully I can pull this off.

If you have any suggestions, I'd love to have them!

My goal:

She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue.  - Proverbs 31:26

Beginnings: Week Two

The reason for this visit was my oldest child.  He's one of the bravest people I know, and his big heart bumps into mine until mine almost breaks - all the time.  He captures people with that heart.  Kids, teachers, coaches all draw towards him.  And as a blessing and a consequence of this collecting of people, he sees them.  Sees them for real. He senses things.  Things of the heart that show up fragile, tender, and sometimes, not quite right.  When people are sad but are trying to hide it.  When strangers are struggling inside and no one else notices.

 

Why is that person hurting, Mom? 
Why does he not feel well? 
Why is she really angry? 
What is happening that they act like that? 
What's going on, Mom? 

The questions come all the time.  So, wrapped all around his gift of incredible empathy is anxiety of unknowns and icky things.  Fear.  Used to be, I'd go to volunteer at his school, and I couldn't let him see me, or we would just have to go home.  Poor child lost himself because fear took over his little world.  Again, his heart bumping mine and mine just about breaking for his fear.  Then, over time, with help, he grew up enough to cope and walk around and feel secure in himself.  There were lots of ways he figured out coping.  He sucks in fresh air.  He gained confidence through sports.  But the secret cure?   A little rock.  He carries it in his pocket, and every time he touches it, he reminds himself Jesus is with him.  He recognizes he is not alone.  Not going through the day all by himself.  Sounds cheesy to some, a nine year old holding onto a rock to remind himself Jesus is with him.  But if you saw it, you'd be hard pressed to poopoo it.  The rock, Jesus, well, it works.

So today, at my meeting with the guidance counselor (She has the best big southern accent a girl can have), I share our history.  I explain about the panic attacks in second grade and the tears in third and the apprehension with field trips.  And she explains that the reason she could just get to me this week is because she has been meeting with parents constantly for the past five days that have also been sharing about their child's anxiety.  Lots of kids walking around terrified every day that something might show up in their world that they cannot handle.  Fear ruling their day.  I explain my son is stronger now, and that he should be okay.  She told me about a third grader that hasn't survived a full day yet.  The girl's mother just simply cannot be seen or the daughter has to go home.  And I laughed, understanding a little too well.  Because I have been that mother, and I know what it's like being her.

I want so much to go dump a bunch of Jesus rocks on that guidance counselor's desk and ask her to share our secret.  It's a public school, but really.  Jesus isn't too concerned about that.

The Lord is my helper; I will not fear;

what can man do to me?

Hebrews 13:6

For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love, and of self-discipline.

II Timothy 1:7

Beginnings: Day Two

Yesterday my babies started their new school.  Key is a fourth grader now, and sweet Kelly is a big kindergartner.  They both had a good first day, and each of them made a friend. 

Key informed me his new friend, Daniel, wants to go to Winthrop University just like him.  Daniel also knows all the girls' names.  I asked about whether or not Daniel liked Legos or Harry Potter or any of the things I thought might have mattered, but Key looked at me confused.  I had gotten it all wrong.  What mattered was that Daniel was nice.  He smiled.  And he talked to my son.  He included Key in games on the playground.  And for all that, they have a beautiful start to a friendship.  As Key's mother, I am grateful to Daniel, and I am remembering that I prayed for him.  I prayed awhile ago for "another Teriyon" for Key on his first day in this new place.  See, when Key first went off to the big world of kindergarten, he was not quite ready.  And he didn't know important stuff like how to open his own juice box.  Well, God gave him a kid named Teriyon.  Teriyon spotted my overwhelmed little Key immediately and sat by him all day.  He opened Key's juice box and helped him tie his shoes and watched over him.  Teriyon had been in daycare and knew the whole school routine.  Key loved Teriyon, especially that first week of school.  Even though they went on to make other friends, I cannot forget that little boy's sweet protective presence over my Key.

And Kelly.  When we took him to his class, he sat so small and quiet in his chair.  The teacher asked me if he would talk, and I told her probably not.  Kelly doesn't talk to people until he feels safe with them.  Once he's comfortable, though, watch out.  And, well, he's getting comfortable quickly.  Kelly doesn't know his friend's name.  But he knows he liked him.  And they got to go on a walk around the whole school and eat snack outside and a girl threw up yellow stuff.  She had to go home.  And today he gets to share five things from home that show how special he is.  Kindergarten is great.  And again, I am so, so grateful.  I prayed for this too.  Kelly and I have not been separated, and I was worried for both of us.  Again, God has provided.

And me.  Well, I ended up volunteering to teach a class for the boys' new school.  I am really trying to become a substitute teacher and to spend time on writing.  In the meantime, I will be planning an eight session enrichment class for middle school age kids (probably mainly boys) on the history of flight.  We will be making various paper airplanes and kites and at least one big project.  Hopefully once the course is over, the general faculty will not hate me for teaching a bunch of middle schoolers how to make the best paper airplanes.....

I guess we'll just have to wait and see.



Beginnings

So those two little fellas are starting school tomorrow.

I am a bit sad, really, because that smallest one with the bald head is going to kindergarten.

And I don't want him to go.

Really. 

The biggest one is starting fourth grade.

 He's becoming more independent each and every day.

It is absolutely horrible!

 Not really.

It's just that for nine years now I have been home with babies, and tommorrow I will still be home.

But without them. 

It's not just the starting kindergarten thing that makes me cry;  it's the being home alone thing too.  When I gave up teaching to stay home with my first son, I quickly jumped right back in to working through teaching Sunday school and tutoring students on the side.  But when we moved to Columbia, I stayed home with my babies completely for two and a half years.  Meaning, I didn't tutor or work outside of my home or volunteer much at all.  And every time my sweet Key went to school, I would count down the minutes until I could go pick him back up again and bring him home.  Home was a place of safety.  Yet, starting in the spring of his 4K year, I got sick.  Couldn't leave the house or drive kind of sick.  And when he started kindergarten, I thought it would be good for all of us.  I thought he could get out of the house and make new friends, and I could rest with Kelly.  Only, that's not exactly what happened.  I did rest.  And I did need it.  But I also became a hermit, still counting down the minutes until I could bring Key home.  Some days the only time I left my house was to walk across the street to pick him up from school.  There were days when even that one responsibility seemed too much because I felt so nauseous.  So, so nauseous. And even more than the off and on again bouts of illness, the anxiety and fear of leaving home became almost overwhelming.  The anxiety started defining my day.  And home started looking a bit more like prison.

Eventually I recovered from by medical condition, but in the year it took to get well, the walls closed in on me.  And, by default, they also closed in on my children.  If it weren't for my responsibility to them, I might not have ever left my house.  But I did, leave my house that is, with some help from a really good therapist and a lot of prayer and support from friends and family.  And once I was well enough to appear normal, the final saving grace for healing was a place called St. Martin's.  A preschool.  Most people drop their kids and run.  Away.  Freedom for three or four hours.  For most, those hours of peace and quiet are precious.  For me, the solitude I had just escaped had almost sucked the life out of me.  For me, the chaos was precious.  Women.  Children.  All needing my help.  Needing me.  It was a place for me to work, and a place for Kelly to safely emerge from his shell.  St. Martin's quickly became a sanctuary for my precious Kelly and for me. 

So now, here we are in Rock Hill, and we have moved again.

And my kids will start school - both of them.

I am terrified of those walls in my home.

It was the worst kind of fear - not being able to leave my house.

The worst kind of hurt - to feel useless.

The worst kind of guilt - not being that happy, healthy mom.

And I realize that I cannot go back to that kind of pain.

No.

Which brings me to these two quotes that I found last week from Mother Teresa.

Loneliness and the fear of being unwanted is the worst kind of poverty.

I want you to be concerned about your neighbor.  Do you know your neighbor?

These wise words are going to help me conquer my fear of letting my children grow up and of being left behind.

I have a plan.  Several small ones, actually.

And I will let you know how they progress.

But for now,

Dear Lord,

Please be with all of us that are letting our little ones go off into the big wide world each day.  Please be with our children.  And please be with us, that we may fill our days seeking your guidance, feeling your love, and doing your will for our lives.

Amen

P.S.  Please help me not to cry when I drop them off at school tomorrow.  It is just plain embarrassing.

This Old House: Plumbing 101

Just so y'all know, roots can block the plumbing in an old house, and when one older gentleman living in a home is replaced with a family of four, it can cause HUGE issues. Like the whole main line backing up and all the toilets and tubs and washers draining into one another and up, up, over their thresholds and pouring out onto the floor. Yes. All at one time. Got some cleaning to do.

But, the place has character. Lots of character...

I was going to write an entry on abundance, but it's taking on a whole new meaning, so I may have to wait til tomorrow when I can stop laughing.

Place for Rest

This new place we live in is slowly getting put together. We still have two - half baths, but today we may get at least one whole one put just right. I fixed loose tile in the tub two days ago, and now that the grout has cured I can seal the edges with silicone caulk. I cannot tell you how cool it feels to understand what I just said! I'm learning about paint techniques from books we checked out at the local library, and we are still hanging clothes on the clothesline. The dryer works, but it is so nice not to have it going all the time and the clothesline makes me feel like a southern woman from the fifties.

Eventually all of this slowed down life will come to an end and the hectic days of school and work will tumble back with force. But for now, we are taking joy in sleeping til the sun wakes us up and spending our afternoons with each other since we are the only people we know in this town. I didn't think the week following the move would be a time I call rest, but indeed it is. And for this quiet time of productivity I am happy.

We are blessed.

Settling In

Well. It's official. We are Rock Hill residents. We miss Columbia for lots of reasons, but one big one is because our old home had working toilets. And proper hook up for our washer. And our dryer. Here in the home we have chosen to renovate, we have one working toilet, four working sinks, and one working shower. Unfortunately the toilet and the shower are not in the same rooms. We have two - half baths because neither one is completely functioning. We have a toilet currently sitting in a box in the hallway because the floor underneath it was rotten. Which is why it wobbled. The air conditioner and the washer and dryer have been fixed, thanks partly to handy men and partly to us. Paint is peeling from just about every doorway and window, and since the house was built in 1940, it is probably lead paint. The wallpaper adherred to the plaster a good fifty years ago, so that will need to be painted over. It certainly isn't coming off the walls without the plaster attached, and I don't do plaster work, so over it the paint will go.

In other words, we previously lived in a palace. Now, well, not so much. But on the bright side, our new place is a fabulous bungalow with ten foot ceilings, picture molding in every room, a hallway wide enough for a desk, original bathroom tile, and a sidewalk out front that leads to the local college in one direction and to the sports fields and park in the other direction. All the closets are cedar lined (not big enough for half our clothes, but still). And we have plans. So yeah!

Our house

Hello to all. I am not writing nearly enough lately, and for that I can explain. I am home for the summer with both of my children. And I am starting the packing process in order to be able to move. And we had to arrange both the house we are moving to and advertise for renters that will take over ours. And Michael is still driving three hours every day to and from work. And he's going to take a fourth (yes, fourth) bar exam one month from now. (We have only lived in SC, but Michael keeps working for multistate firms.) And my kids are home, wondering what fun I have planned for them each and every day as their entertainment director. But I already mentioned them....



So, here's our plan.




Michael - work and study. Otherwise my jobs are useless.




Me - Pack house, feed children, prepare home in Rock Hill, and move.




Kids - Keep a positive attitude and realize that we really do love them and we are trying to do what's best, even if it is incredibly boring and they are going to have to move away from their friends.



That said, what I am trying to do is get back to a routine. In all the hurried life of late, I have given up on praying and reading each morning and having dinner cooked at a reasonable time each evening. We ate at nine thirty last night. There are nights where my kids aren't even hungry anymore because it's bedtime and their bodies want sleep more than food. We are getting frustrated with each other. Michael is stressed out beyond explanation over asking his family to move - again - for the hope of this being the job that settles us. And a lot of it depending on whether or not he can pass this big test while networking in small town America all at once and up until now driving three hours a day to do all that. Yet. There's good.

My kids have built champion forts because they have time and supplies. Boxes stack to the ceiling in minutes and new toys make imagination exciting again. Old friends that we missed all school year are showing up and taking my kids and offering them love and fun and support. The last two or three days I have craved my morning time, and I have taken it, and those days have been good. Blessed by the break. We got the house I wanted (I love it - the rest of them are withholding their vote til I prove how great it can be) and there are sweet college students waiting in Rock Hill to help me get it ready for my family. Michael's new firm is giving him the enitre month off for him to study. No other firm has ever givien him this much time. We are not doing this on our own. All along the way, God is providing sweet friends and family to make this time more than bearable, enjoyable. And for all that I am thankful.

So, in the end, our plan is as I stated in the beginning, but I am adding back to that plan my morning time so that I may remember to tell God thank you and give Him the rest of each day. And I am going to attempt a stopping time in the chaos so that my children don't fall asleep in their dinner plates.

Pray for us!

(We move for good July 14th.)

Abide in Me

That was Sunday's sermon - Abide in Me.

And that's what my friend said she was trying desperately to do today when I talked with her on the phone - Abide. In Him.

And that's what I am doing too, because otherwise I would have had fifteen plus some more panic attacks already today.

I drove on the interstate.
I looked at rental homes. For us to live in for awhile.
I talked to four realtors. No. Sorry. Five.
I found out the people that looked at buying our house don't want it.
I found out another person may want to rent it for a short while.
I like that person. A whole lot.
I talked with my insurance agent.
I like her a whole lot too.
I explained it all to my dad. (Thank you, Dad.)
I talked with God. All. day. long. (Thank you, God.)

Here's the deal. I know we are moving to Rock Hill by August 1st because I have stated it out loud to my kids. And they needed a date. A date for when they could stop cleaning their playroom and living in a museum and saying goodbye to people only to see them again. And again.

I asked God for a date and then declared one. I hope He's on board with that.

Truth. I keep demanding a simple when and where from God. And I keep researching endless possibilities to answer those very same questions. What I am having an awful hard time with is the stopping and abiding part. I mean, for goodness sake, I set a date, God! Can't He see that I am in a hurry? Yet, all my tempting Him has not provided me with answers or comfort. So. I am left to abide in Him.

Just Him.

No date.

No address.

Just Him.

And for tonight, I have to tell you, it feels good to let Him take all that for awhile.

Back in the saddle...

And I'm back...

Yesterday I went to the library to use a computer because I was having withdrawal symptoms. And I sadly let the world know my old, ornery computer died. It was a love/ hate relationship we had. During Lent, when I was blogging daily, it would cause great frustration. See, for months, it has been acting up, jumping pages in the middle of my reading or typing. Flashing old web pages in my face randomly. Skipping to the bottom of a page, then the top, then back down again, all while I tried to keep my place. Good times, me and that computer. Michael stopped using it months ago when it started behaving badly. He had no patience, though I knew it was only because it didn't feel well, and I tried repeatedly to clean it up and make it better. Well, my brother in law, Patrick, is going to try to revive my files now, but otherwise, it's mainly gone.

And so, as I was leaving the library unsatisfied, my close friend, Cindy called. She has an extra computer, and she brought it to my house and set it up for me. So that I may blog. (And pay bills, but who wants to talk about those?) She also brought me a bike helmet for my youngest so he could ride safely on his new, hand me down, big boy bike with training wheels. She also brought me washers to fix the bolts on those same training wheels that keep collapsing. How fabulous is Cindy!?! She saved me lots of time and money, and she did it because as she often says, "I just ask that people remember the grace I show them, so that they may do the same. I don't expect anything in return from the recipient, and I have faith that grace will come to me in another way when I need it."

I needed that.

See, the whole reason Cindy knew I was having all of these issues was because I rang her doorbell to borrow her tools to fix the bike because our tools were stolen a few months ago. And then I proceeded to take her wrench and unload all my pent up frustration right onto her shoulders. And she accepted it.

So, to Cindy, thank you! I can't wait to "pass it on."

And now, off to catch up on the news...

Issues

Our computer is broken and I am stranded from the outside world. In fact, I am currently at the library ignoring my children in order to type this brief message. So, just to let y'all know, I am offline for awhile. I will be back someday, and when that day comes, we'll reconnect. I can receive email on my phone, but responding is difficult. In the meantime I have lots to say and lots of issues to work out, so I can't wait to get back together with my computer very soon. Writing it all down - all those issues - helps sort the thoughts out clearly. So, until we meet again here in blog world, I'll be wandering around, befuddled, keeping all these thoughts to myself.

Lots of love,

Patty

Daily prayers

Prayers

World - I pray for peace. (Of course.) But seriously, I pray that the people that keeping getting hurt and victimized, the ones that cannot leave home free from fear, the ones that have too little food or water or love or family, that those people feel God and Jesus and the Holy Spirit today. And I pray for the ones that cause the fear and terror and selfishness that leaves others trembling or hungry or both. I pray that those people turn towards you and take a step towards you and open their palms to you and let their anger and hatred and own hurts drain through their fingers and litter the ground. I pray for the whole world.

Country - I pray for grace. I pray that our politicians and president and all those in positions of voting leadership offer a bit of grace today and in return feel grace given back to them. Because in our stubbornness, our country suffers, and the citizens pay the price. I pray for these same leaders to humbly seek your guidance and I pray that they figure out a way to communicate. Really and truly to hear each other. I pray for our servicemen and women and I pray for all those separated from their families that they find a way home soon. I pray for our police and our gangs and our victims and our incarcerated - that they have a moment of peaceful heart and clear mind. I pray for all the clutter of our lives - the mess we have made with our excess - that we find a way to get it all under control. I pray for the USA.

Community - I pray for outstretched hands. For the hands of our neighbors, that those are the hands of healing, not of hurt. That we care for each other and feed each other and lift each other up. I pray for the churches and the missions and that people of the community feel Jesus through hands today. For the hungry and the struggling student and the lonely and the overwhelmed and the underwhelmed. For each person to feel Him. I pray for Columbia and all of South Carolina.

Friends - I pray for my close, dear friend Christie, who had the most beautiful baby boy in the entire universe yesterday. He is almost as cute as my kids:) Actually, he's fabulously adorable. I pray for Jason who is now a daddy and for their whole family as they learn how to be parents. I pray for my friend, Laura, who is single momming it while her husband is gone on duty every week and for all the people whose paths I keep crossing that are single parents. I pray for my sweet bible study friends - that they feel and know God intimately and that He holds them each in the palm of His hand. I pray for Miss Christy and every woman I have the pleasure of working with on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. And I pray for all my friends, all the ones in Aiken and Tennessee and Columbia and wherever, near and far, new and old, because without friendships I would go crazy, lala... I pray for friendships.

Family - I pray for my husband. And my babies, Key and Kelly. And my whole extended family on both sides. There's a lot. I pray for our past, our present day, and our future. Family that has gone ahead and all of us to follow. I love my family with a fierceness that only gets stronger with each passing year, and I pray for blessings they can see and taste and feel deeply each and every day. I pray for family.

Me - I pray for discernment. For patience. For wisdom and grace and humor and a light heart. For courage through You. For a life full of joy and awareness and free from fear. For my house to sell and my children to feel comfortable in a new home. For stability. I pray for me.

Amen.

I need a pedicure. And an eyebrow wax. And some general beauty time that I keep pushing aside. What I really need most of all is to get back to reading and praying daily, like I did during lent. When I promised God and y'all that I would write for forty days, I felt convicted to follow through. And through those writings I was able to reach out to people, but I was also able to reach back into my heart where some things were getting overlooked or ignored or plain denied. Since Easter I have been so, so tired. Lots of obstacles have come our way, and the extra energy needed for grace and patience has honestly drained me. Completely. I have been telling myself to get back to the writing, but then I tell myself to get back to the writing when I have energy.

Then, I read this:

http://gitzengirl.blogspot.com/2011/05/seek.html

And I realized that the writing gave me the energy for my days, not because I am the next Faulkner, but because in my writing I slowed down and spent time with my Lord. There would have been no way for me to complete forty entries in a row otherwise. So, I am going to get back at it. I make a promise to write three days a week for one month as a start. The threes are for the Trinity, and the month will get us to Pentecost.

And now, I must go at least get dressed, bushy eyebrows, winter feet, and all!