Wednesday, September 28, 2011

GoTeach

Teach Your Children Well



Proverbs 4:1, Give attention that you may gain understanding.



Do you like to read a lot, like I do? If I do not have a good book hanging on in my life, I feel a little lost. Usually, I have a fiction selection and a non-fiction thought provoker going on at the same time – which reminds me that I need to make a trip to the library or else I will spend some dollars through the amazing maze of wireless shopping to find a new nook-book. Who were the marketing geniuses who made up that name to sound sort of like a pacifier? Ok – I just broke down & did my online Barnes & Noble shopping – instant gratification: Seven Days in Utopia, Heaven Is For Real and That Used to Be Us. Distracting myself – stop it!


Part of my regular reading is actually education journals where I try to find the latest research reports to direct me to push my students in the right direction. Lately, the research is telling that so much more than content knowledge (my Papaw called this book learnin’) indicates continued academic progress. Character traits such as self-control, social awareness and perseverance appear to be strong predictors for future success. So how do I teach that????
Well, one way to teach it is to bring it up for discussion at every opportunity. In teaching math to 7th and 8th graders, believe it or not, there are a bajillion opportunities! When I give the “warm-up – challenge” problem to start class each day I am given the chance the encourage those who have the “Sit & stare at blank paper syndrome.” Learn from your peers who are chosen to share their work and explain the solution – look at their mark outs, erasures and changes – we talk often about persistence in problem solving. Now when I am redirecting behavior, they know the purpose is to support their future success. I just use the keys words to remind them, “Michael, social awareness,” reminds him to look around and be aware that his class mates are involved in a task & he needs to follow their lead. Or it might be, “Sara, self-control.” They are smart kids – they get it!

Lately, educational research has particularly commented about how this character growth has become especially difficult for children from affluent families (whom I happen to teach). Their parents while trying to actively support them in academic success are sometimes doing the exact opposite when they try to shield them from possible failure. In his recent article in New York Times Magazine, What if the secret to success is failure? Published: September 14, 2011, Paul Tough, quotes educational researchers and writers, Levin, Randolph and Levine listing the character traits that they find most supportive of success:  zest, grit, self-control, social intelligence, gratitude, optimism, persistence and curiosity.

Another way to teach character besides discussion is modeling. How do we show them to interact with others? How do we show them to find contentment and “success”? All of the necessary qualities seem to come back to the fruits of the spirit that God will give to us as we continually seek Him.

Galatians 5:22-23 But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law.









Saturday, September 10, 2011

Trees Deeply Rooted

Family and Friends in the Fifties: My Life 1955-1960

One of the family treasures that helped us prepare for Darrell’s mom’s (Laverne Scott Green) recent memorial service was a handwritten book of memories. Our sister-in-law, Alyce Green, had printed out a list of interesting questions about life and asked her own parents and Laverne to fill it in. She said Laverne took about two years to complete the task and then Alyce made copies and bound it into a notebook to give us all as Christmas gifts in 2008. On the first page, the three questions were: what were your parents like, how did The Depression affect your family, and who were your childhood friends? This blog post answers modified versions of those questions for my “Memory Book”.

This is the Apostle Paul’s prayer for the Ephesians; this is my prayer for my family and friends:

Ephesians 3:14-21, New International Version (NIV)

14 For this reason I kneel before the Father, 15 from whom every family in heaven and on earth derives its name. 16 I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, 17 so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, 18 may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, 19 and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.

20 Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, 21 to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.

My preschool years were spent in Royse City TX, my parents’ hometown. Surrounded by much extended family, also residing in this small town were both sets of grandparents, the 5 great grandparents that were still living and Aunt Berniece and Uncle Jimmy Sladek. Uncle Wayne and Aunt Joyce lived nearby in Rockwall and Uncle Glenn lived in Dallas. My dad commuted to work in Dallas at Otis Engineering located on Mockingbird Lane, sharing the travel with his friend William Mantooth who worked for Braniff Airlines at Love Field. Having such a carefree, happy childhood, I had thought that my mother was always a stay at home housewife until she corrected me about her employment; she worked for the town doctor, Dr. Peters. While she was gone to work, I got to pal around with my grandmother (Mamaw) Lois Fisher. I was having such a good time that I guess I didn’t realize what my parents were doing with their hours away from me.

Those days at my grandparents’ house followed a comfortable routine. I played in their bedroom/den with a coffee can collection of buttons and sea shells. These were sorted into families and arranged into their imaginary houses and activities. Another favorite past time was using the Sears catalog and Better Homes and Gardens magazines to pick out imaginary families and the objects of their homes and lives. If I was lucky, these paper goods would become old enough that I could cut pictures out of them and sort out the imagined families in piles on the floor instead of keeping it all in my head. Mamaw also made me temporary doll babies by rolling up a towel and tying a string around it to separate the form into a head and body. When the whistle blew, I knew it was lunchtime and Papaw would come home to join us for a home cooked noon meal. She served on Fiesta ware and I always wanted the grey plate because they told me it was a silver platter like the fairy tale princesses. I also got to use the special Mickey Mouse spoon. Meals I remember were fried chicken, salmon croquettes and chicken and dumplings. Then I would take a nap in “Glenn’s room”, drifting off with the traffic sounds from the far off highway blowing in the wind that stirred the curtains. (Yes, Janene, it was on a chenille bedspread!)

Their yard held lots of opportunities for outside adventures. The big tree in the front had a little cubby hole at its base near the roots; this made a great place for an oven to bake leaves and twigs. Another tree near the driveway had lots of low branches providing great climbs and “rooms”. At the end of the driveway was a carport and carpenter’s shop. Papaw kept his tools and table saw in there. I loved to play there in the fresh sawdust with the wooden blocks that came from his scraps. The shop also housed the big wringer washer that was used regularly until the “little room” was built on the side of the house to hold the washer/dryer and Papaw’s office for his insurance business. His manual typewriter was an obsession with all the grandchildren and the reason we always wanted to play in the “little room”.

More interesting adventures were available in their neighborhood (Peterson St.) with the various families that lived nearby. In the house next door, the Baptist parsonage, various sons of the preacher families raised pigs and I could observe them through the fence that kept them penned up in that back yard. On the other side, lived the Fikes family (who were related on my dad’s side) and they tended a large back yard garden. Mrs. Fikes was often out there working in her faded sun bonnet and calling us over to give us vegetables. Across the street was the Vining family who had a teenage daughter that I idolized – she was so grown up and pretty with her perfect ponytail. Further down were Tince and Lottie Bell (the undertaker and his wife) who liked to entertain us with the musical organ in their living room. And sometimes we visited with Mrs. Nation (Aunt Joyce’s mother) who also lived a short walk down the street. This was one of those places where everyone knew everybody in town.

Church worship services were regular activities. Grandparents on the Kohn side (Nana and Papaw Bally) were members at a country church before they moved off the farm into town. I think it was called Graham Point Baptist Church. Nana was known for her great home cooking and she was often hosting the preacher’s family over to her house for a meal. Mamaw and Papaw were long time members at First Methodist in Royse City which is now a building recognized as a historic landmark. My parents and my dad’s parents were members at First Baptist Royse City where my dad was the music leader. I remember going to church in a storefront building on Main St. while the current sanctuary was being built. My dad also provided music for revival meetings at numerous country churches around Rockwall and Hunt counties and sometimes I went with him. So I learned the old traditional hymns from a very early age, sometimes mixing up the words. I remember singing, “bringing in the sheets” instead of “bringing in the sheaves,” thinking of my mom bringing in the washing from the outside clothes line. And I’m told that I also mixed up a pop song with Sunday school lessons and came out with, “Jesus standing on the corner watching all the girls go by…” My dad played guitar and would entertain us at home with Hank Williams songs, “Your cheatin’ heart…will tell on you.”

Recently reading The Help, a current best seller and a new movie, made me think about one of my childhood playmates. Pam Peters, the doctor’s daughter, often invited me to play at her house. The Help made me think of her family because they were the only people in town that I remember having “help”. Their maid’s name was Miss Gussie and Pam’s mother was named Evadean. Their help did the cooking, cleaning and watching after the child while Evadean played golf, read books, watched TV or went off to Dallas. It was fun to play there and I was so impressed that Pam had her bedroom and a separate play room. We were not allowed to mess up her pretty pink bedroom with the Felix the Cat clock and were confined to only play in the play room.

My best friend in those years was the girl across the street, Jan Claycomb. We had lots of fun playing together, mostly outside in the other neighbor’s yard. Mr. Carr was an elderly man who lived alone and still farmed part of his city property. He kept an old hay wagon parked under a weeping willow tree that made a perfect location for little girls to play “house”. He also had an old smokehouse and beehives on his lot. My sister is famous for beating the hives with a stick and then running home yelling, “The flies are after me!” Jan and I also liked to play at a place around the corner from our house that we called, “The Big Tree”. There was a lot of freedom for kids to wander around and play outside without worry in those days. I remember going on an exploring adventure with Jan, taking a walk down the dirt road next to Mr. Carr’s house just to see where it would go. Evidently, parents did panic when they couldn’t locate their kids because I recall getting in big trouble when we came home…we had travelled past our known zone and passed unknown workers in some fields.

 Jan was a year older than me and I was really sad when she went off to school with her older sisters and I was left to play with the younger ones during the day. By that time, my sister Gail was born and my mom was a stay at home mom who did home day care for our cousins Tammy and Donna Sladek. The best time of day was the afternoon when Jan got home from school. I would go over to her house and she would teach me what she learned that day and we would watch TV shows, Dobie Gillis and Our Miss Brooks. We loved a song that her sisters taught us, “She wore an itsy, bitsy, teeny, weeny yellow polka dot bikini…”

She probably gave me a great head start to formally learning to read – thanks Jan! I haven’t seen her in years but have come across her mother Joann at various Royse City funerals. Jan graduated from Texas A & M during the early years of girls first being allowed to attend there; her dad and uncles were all Aggie alums. She married, raised a family and lives in Tyler TX, last I heard.

Imagery of large, strong trees keeps repeating in the haze of my memories. I liked to climb, hang from limbs and just sit and look at my world from a different perspective. I would play out the Bible story and children’s song of Zaccheas, climbing and waiting in a tree, waiting for Jesus to walk my way.

Psalm 1:3 …be like a tree firmly planted by streams of water, which yields fruit in its season, and its leaf does not wither, and in whatever he does, he prospers.

Waking up in the mornings, I remember loving to lie on the floor in the den in front of the space heater. I would be watching my dad leave for work with his metal lunch box and watching the kid TV show, Captain Kangaroo. Cereal was the breakfast preference, like Alpha-bits or Rice Krispies. I loved playing with coloring books, paper dolls, my toy sewing machine and my toy doll house, Colorforms, Slinky and Hula hoops…

My mom was a census taker in 1960 and I remember riding with her in the car as she drove to places in the country to record their information. She kept me occupied with a coloring book where you could paint on water with Q-tips and it would bring out color from the pages. I also remember the election – most local signs were for Nixon. People in small town northeast Texas were suspicious of the Irish - Catholic candidate.

Basically, living was easy…no worries, be happy! Maybe the prayers of my family gave me a blessed life in my early days! Thank you!

Hebrews 13:7, Remember those who led you, who spoke the word of God to you; and considering the result of their conduct, imitate their faith.

Sunday, August 7, 2011

I Heart Basketball!

I Love Basketball!



“You have believed before, and every time you allowed yourself to be vulnerable, that faith has normally been rewarded with a giant drop into a stinking pile…”; this is a quote from sports writer Mac Engel in his opinion printed in the Star Telegram sports section of today’s newspaper. He's writing about the Dallas Cowboys but he’s expressing my emotions about the Dallas Mavericks that were experienced for many, many years – until this year! I love basketball and I love the Mavs! I love Mark Cuban and Dirk and Tyson and Jet and Kidd and JJ! I love Jeffrey (#1 platinum level server) and Sandy (our most recent server) and Ernest (my ticket rep) and our usher (we can’t come up with her name at the moment) and John & Anita Everheart (mates on our four seat row) and T.J. Griffin, Jerud Miller, Mark and Melinda Forgue, Kevin Aslin and his mom, Steve Nathman, Landry Locker… (MFFL – Mav Fans for Life - soul mates in Maverick fandom throughout the years of pain). Ah, what joy to spread the love! Savoring the moments, enjoying the memories, pondering in my heart – these thoughts have been simmering and stewing over a slow flame for hours, days, weeks, months and they are deliciously tender!

My mom and dad both played basketball for their high school teams. When the streak of 100 degree days breaks I will venture to their attic and find pictures from their yearbooks to share. After school hours as a kid were spent playing with my sister and neighborhood friends: kickball in the playfields we designed in the few empty lots and basketball in the Douphrate’s driveway or on our own small patio “court”. My dad had erected a hoop attached to a wooden backboard on a wooden pole at the right angle corner of our tiny concrete backyard patio. The best shots came from “outside” on the sidewalk and from the “top of the key” – up the steps of the back porch standing next to the back door. Actually, the best shots came from the star player who rarely made an appearance on the court – my mom had a game that would put all us young ‘uns to shame!

Girls growing up in the 60’s did not have a lot of choices for sports activities. This pendulum has swung so far in the opposite direction now so that a federal investigation required our school district to implement more equitable opportunities for females in athletics – that’s why we now have to fund water polo! So in the absence of getting to try out for basketball in middle school or high school, I enjoyed the days that our P.E. teacher, Mrs. Strickland, organized intermurals. We played the old school rules (like Don Carter described of his wife’s playing days for Duncanville) where you were either an assigned defender or offensive player and not allowed to cross the half court line. I loved those games and remember the pleasure of hanging in to win some against the older, taller girls who were considered the favorites. The high school gym was opened in the summer for loosely organized activities for those whose parents signed them up for the summer recreation program (and I think a lot of high school football players were expected to show up here and work out). What we did (the younger kids) was play basketball, softball, ping pong and run track. Throughout those years some of our standard family activities were Friday night football and high school basketball season – we went to games for Royse City High School (my parents’ alma mater), Carrollton High School and then R. L. Turner High School. Highlights were the State playoff teams – football vs. San Angelo and basketball vs. Houston Wheatley; we didn’t win but it was memorable to go that far!

Freshman year of college was spent at Oklahoma Baptist University, a basketball school – I went to every game! In the early 80’s, following Darrell’s career with IBM brought us to live in Greencastle IN – the heartland of all things basketball! Here we were season ticket patrons to DePauw University basketball and the middle school students I taught had current heroes of Steve Alford and his coach Bobby Knight from IU. When we attended the premier showing of Hoosiers at our local movie theater, they held the start of the show because our friends were running late - ah such happy memories of small town America in the great Midwest!



For some reason our first son, Jonathan, developed into a sports fanatic! He spent hours sorting through his Topps cards, watching games, reading stats and creating spreadsheets on the computer to organize fantasy leagues before it was such a common concept. From his essay about basketball and submitted application, he was chosen to be a Dallas Mavericks ball boy. This was during his middle school and early high school years when the Mavericks were still in Reunion Arena and Mark Cuban was watching from the nose bleed section. Ball boys were scheduled to work every third home game and free tickets were given to their families for those games. When his ball boy days were over, my days of attending games continued as we bought season ticket packages each year in American Airlines Center, starting in the upper zone and then moving down to the platinum level.

2006 was a memorable season when losing to Miami Heat brought such pain to the team and the fans. I noticed then throughout the playoffs that many of the regular ticket holders that we had sat with to watch so many games were not there. They had “wisely” sold their tickets to make a nice profit while I was a “sucker” who gave up the chance for cash to support my team. I am not known to be friendly to opposing team fans and being at that final game at the AAC watching the Heat win their championship was an experience of the worst karma ever! So the years moved on and I steadfastly continued to decorate my classroom with Mavs posters and suffer through the abusive comments from students, staff and friends who were fans of other teams (mostly Spurs, Lakers, Heat). Not bullying abuse, just good natured trash talk. Meantime, I’m also getting my basketball joy from watching all the 8th grade home games for my school while I earn extra pennies by running the clock for their games.

A few years ago an anonymous person from our church gave every member a book as a Christmas gift. It was called A Hole in the Gospel and written by the chairman of the organization, World Vision.

 The main message of the book is how Jesus calls us to pay attention to poverty and to do our part to take care of people in need. Matthew 25:35-36, 40 For I was hungry, and you gave me something to eat; I was thirsty, and you gave me drink. I was a stranger, and you invited me in. I was naked, and you clothed me; I was sick, and you visited me; I was in prison, and you came to me…And the King will answer and say to them, “Truly, I say to you, to the extent that you did it to one of these brothers of Mine, even the least of them, you did it to Me.” The theme of the book reminded me of how I should focus my life; the church has also focused our collective activities (outside of worship) to serve in our local community and in our global community. So this also leads me to think about how we spend our money. How much goes to needs & how much goes to “frills”? My inner voice told me Maverick games were frills; hence came the conversation with Darrell that I thought this should be our last year to do season tickets – although I love the games, our money could be better used on other things. He agreed easily, as I am the major Mav fan & his love is the Cowboys. With this impending adjustment in my mind, I experienced each game with appreciation while Anita and I shared our amazement at the progress of the team. Often we whispered, “This might be the year!” to each other, afraid to be too bold. We enjoyed dinners, cheers and happy dances throughout the season and the playoffs and met up later in Colorado at their cabin in the Rockies to reminisce about the remarkable season and the championship finish.

They took this picture of us at the Stone Chapel on a mountain top in the YMCA camp.

Backing up a little to a special Sunday in May, I attended church that day at Heritage & sat with a dear friend. We chatted about Mother’s Day plans and I mentioned that we were going to the Maverick game that afternoon against the Lakers. Through this conversation I told her a little bit about this being our last year for the season ticket plan and she commented, “You will be blessed for this.” That day I witnessed the performance of a lifetime with the Mavs decisively shutting down Kobe and his entourage where Jet Terry was lights out on threes! Do any of you recall that miracle game? I thought that was when the team had given it their all and maybe would not have any game left in them.

School came to an end and I left town on a planned girl trip to Key West while Darrell travelled with his buddies for a week of golf in the Texas hill country. When we made these vacation plans we had not dreamed that the Mavericks would make their way to the finals in the NBA! Unlike 2006, our section mates at AAC were showing up for the games – no one was selling their seats – all good karma! In my heart of hearts, I could not be playing in Key West while my team was battling it out with the Miami team. I changed my flight to return 2 days early to use my Finals ticket and be there in person for game 4. Whoa – what a game – we kept wondering about Dirk’s lack of performance and lack of time on the court. Then word spread through the stands about his sickness and his fever – then his teammates came through and pulled out another great win! I was so glad to witness Nowitzkiness!

Soon after followed the infamous video clip of Wade and LeBron doing the mocking cough – and then came the wonderful, amazing, final game to win the championship, forever blazed in sports history. I was standing in my living room in front of the TV screen doing the shaking shoulders, sobbing cries – while texting back & forth with family and friends! How can a sports game make you feel so happy?


Don’t know; can’t explain it; but it did and it does!

My pastor, Ken, who passed away a few months ago used to do a Super bowl sermon each year – choosing various Super bowl commercials to talk about and use as his illustrations for God’s message. Whenever a player thanked God for blessing his performance, Ken always mentioned that he thought God loved both sides and did not spend his time favoring one team over another in a sporting event. I don’t know. I sure felt blessed as a fan. Jet Terry gave glory to God on Mother’s Day and on championship day for getting the chance to do what he did. Dirk and the rest were blessed for their hard work, humility, respect. They won as a team relying on each other rather than performing as showboating superstars; they won playing old school basketball. I loved it; I love it still. What a treasured ending to the Mavericks’ first 31 years as a team and to my years as a season ticket holder – I could not have hoped or dreamed for a more beautiful result! Thank you, God, for life’s pleasures! This one was a BIG one!

Monday, July 25, 2011

MercyMe - I Can Only Imagine - Music goes with post about Grandmothers

Grandmothers

Grandmothers


For I am mindful of the sincere faith within you, which first dwelt in your grandmother Lois, and your mother Eunice, and I am sure that it is in you as well. And for this reason I remind you to kindle afresh the gift of God which is in you…For God has not given us a spirit of timidity, but of power and love and discipline. 2 Timothy 1: 5-7

My mother is named Sue Ann, not Eunice, and her mother was named Lois – and they both have passed on to me knowledge of their sincere faith. This generational faith also came from my father’s side of the family from many people, including his mother Rosa Ethel. My earliest memories are rooted in secure love, adoration and attention as I was in the privileged position of being the first grandchild. Mirroring God’s care for his children, my grandmothers showered me with unconditional love. I was bragged on and touted as being special, sweet, smart; wonderful words of praise occasionally tempered with gentle reminders, “Oh we don’t do that! No, no!” The bond between grandmothers and grandchildren is so accommodating and so forgiving and so centered in fiercely desiring only the best possible life for the young soul!

Along with some friends and family members, I have occasionally attended Circle of Light meetings with a lady who communicates with those who have passed on. My original purpose for going was to try to help friends who were suffering pain from loved ones they had lost, but I was stunned to have my grandmothers “speak” to me! They talked about light hearted things from my childhood like Juicy Fruit gum being stored in the kitchen drawer, Easter egg hunts in the yard – but Nana’s words also served to strengthen my faith when she said, “Remember, when I almost died?” Well yes, of course, how could I forget those tense moments when the family was lead into a special room at the hospital where the chaplain could speak to us in private! Her heart stopped but miraculously the medical team brought her back. Through the psychic, her words were encouraging to my faith in the mystery of afterlife – she said that if she had known what it was going to be like, she would have left us on that heart stop event – she said that it was better than we could ever imagine! I love that song…I Can Only Imagine.



During this strange meeting my grandmothers also tried to give me a message about a problem with gas. I started laughing, thinking that they were accusing me of passing gas in this group gathering. Then they tried to clarify – no it’s gas in a tank – so I was thinking that it was a problem with a tank at the Throckmorton ranch where cattle were watered. They kept telling me no, a tank, a problem with gas – but I never understood their communication while we were there. The meeting came to an end and my group piled into Darrell’s pickup that I had driven that night. We dropped off one friend and then drove on to the next house. When I parked in her driveway I noticed a warning light on the dash – we were perilously near to an empty tank of gas! Oh, I had a good laugh over finally understanding the insistent message from my grandmothers – they were still trying to protect me from the little trials of life! I did find a nearby Shell station and fill ‘er up!

Today I had the joy of my friend, a first time grandmamma, sharing a baby boy photo – he’s precious! While floating in the pool of another friend, our conversation stopped to sympathize by phone with her daughter’s tale of little grandson’s tender fingers touching the stove. Grandparent Camp, a yearly week of activity choices for their children’s offspring, always inspires me with ideas and future plans from another friend. With other friends, I share the wait of babies that are incubating in bellies waiting for their time to start in the world. I encourage each of you to cultivate your faith in the heart of that little one and give them the confidence of your unwavering love. I was so fortunate to have that special bond. My boys are continually blessed and strengthened in their lives by the prayers and support from their grandparents. The generations are called to pass on their ethics, their culture and their faith to those who come after us. Let us all take on that task with joy and thanksgiving!

2 Timothy 3:15 and that from childhood you have known the scriptures which are able to give you the wisdom that leads to salvation through faith which is in Christ Jesus.

Proverbs 22:6 Train up a child in the way he should go. Even when he is old, he will not depart from it.

Sunday, July 17, 2011

Promises to Keep

Promises to God




One of my favorite things about summer is free time for free reading. Having just finished a final book of a trilogy, I was ready for a new story when my friend Lynn posted a raving recommendation on Facebook of a bestseller she had just read – Unbroken by Laura Hillenbrand – so I downloaded onto my iPad and started an amazing true tale. Not only was Louis Zamperini’s life story one of incredible inspiration, it was also an allegory of God’s unwavering call to all of us – “I am here; I love you; call on me for everything; look around and notice my work!”

In one of Louie’s trying moments during WWII, he honored the passing of a fellow soldier. “Louie wanted to give him a religious eulogy but didn’t know how, so he recited disjointed passages that he remembered from movies, ending with a few words about committing the body to the sea. And he prayed for himself and Phil, vowing that if God would save them, he would serve heaven forever.” For a long time, Louie forgot about his promise to God, but God did not forget about His promise – He kept watching Louie’s life progress and waiting for their next time of communication.

December 13, 1985 was a Friday the thirteenth, known as an unlucky day for the superstitious – for me a marker in my life to remember making a promise to God. It was the first snow of the fall. Deer hunters had been out during the day making tracks in the wilderness behind our home in the countryside of Indiana. Known as The Lost 500, the land behind and to the west of our house was a vast woodland that gave our small acreage privacy and pristine views. Jonathan was a kindergartener who was eager to go out and play in the snow after his day at Jones Elementary School. I helped him bundle up in his snowsuit, boots and gloves and let him out to enjoy the backyard with his dog, Scooby, while baby Travis napped in his crib and I watched TV news while starting dinner for the family. The weather reporter was predicting the coldest night of the year. Darrell came in the door from work and I opened the sliding glass back door to call Jonathan back in – but he wasn’t there. Neither was the dog. My heart was pounding as Darrell went out to find him. He came back after what seemed an eternity with descriptions of little boy boot prints and dog paw prints that criss- crossed with larger boot prints on the edge of the woods but no sighting of our son! We phoned for help and soon there was a search crew at our house – people from the sheriff’s department and the volunteer fire department. My neighbor, Dee, came to stay at the house with Travis so I could go out in the search. I don’t remember the exact amount of time that was passing as day turned to night but for me time was suspended – a million years converged with every minute, every heartbeat, and every breath. I fell down in the snow and begged with God to protect my son, “If you will save him, I will do anything for you – anything – anything!”

At some point Dee called me back in to the house. There was news from some firemen that Jonathan and Scooby were found coming out of the woods to the road several miles from our house. They were bringing him home in their pickup! Sweet relief – our family was spared from a big brush with tragic loss! Jonathan didn’t want to talk about his adventure/terror other than to say he just kept following his dog. We were so grateful for the people in the community who came out to help us, grateful to Scooby for leading Jonathan to eventual safety and grateful to God for answering that desperate prayer.

Thankfully, God forgives me for repeatedly failing to live up to my side of the bargain. Like Louie Zamperini, once my immediate ordeal was over I tended to not even give it thought. Have you ever made a promise to God? We in our broken human nature cannot live up to our best intentions. God in his divine nature will never fail in His promises.

Whenever Friday the thirteenth comes around I remember my feeble promise and I thought of it again today, Jonathan’s birthday. While celebrating turning 31 he is viewing God’s glorious creation from a famous mountain peak, Machu Picchu. I look forward to his story.

…and lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age. (Jesus’ words) Matthew 28:20

This also brings to mind a work by Robert Frost – thanks to Mrs. Brooks my old-fashioned 4th grade teacher who made us memorize and recite poetry to her each week.

Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.

His house is in the village though;

He will not see me stopping here

To watch his woods fill up with snow.



My little horse must think it queer

To stop without a farmhouse near

Between the woods and frozen lake

The darkest evening of the year.



He gives his harness bells a shake

To ask if there is some mistake.

The only other sound's the sweep

Of easy wind and downy flake.



The woods are lovely, dark and deep.

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.

Sunday, June 12, 2011

Living and Learning

Reflections on the School Year: Some Things I Learned




An announcement came over the PA system calling us from our rooms for an urgent meeting in the library. Early, unscheduled conferences are not a good sign – something was up and unsettling news was expected. Our principal, Toni, read a letter to the faculty from one of our teachers who had welcomed her first baby over the summer. The stunning words described a genetic disorder that had been detected for the precious, innocent infant boy – expected heart defect, learning disabilities, facial malformation, and a long road ahead with challenges in his life. With tears in our eyes and lumps in our throats we stood in a large circle of about 60 people joining hands and hearts while one said a prayer out loud – voicing a plea for the baby that all of us were simultaneously groaning on the inside.



I had never heard of Williams Syndrome. Like many others, when I left the group my first action was to Google it on my computer and look for more details, possible reassurances. We had given a joyful shower to support the nursery design of Texas Rangers & Dallas Cowboys – how could this tragedy happen to one of our own??!! Our prayers that began on that teacher work day before the start of the school year continued as we met Calin, held him, cuddled him, cooed at him and kept track of his progress through his mom’s occasional updates after doctor visits and shared pictures as he grew.



Traditionally in the Christmas season before our weeks of holiday break, the school staff participates in Secret Santas. We draw a name and bring little gifts of things that person likes and then reveal to our secret person with a larger gift on the last day. Rather than pulling a name for the adult gifts, this year many chose to donate instead to the Angel Fund for Calin. The whole school made contributions to start a fund to support his special needs for medical and other care expenses. The family was presented this account at a Pep Rally and graciously accepted our gift of love and money.



Last night there was a featured segment on the TV show, 20/20, that detailed some of the joys and frustrations of people with Williams Syndrome. Seeing the interviews and the videos of children in a special camp environment helped me better understand the situation. Here’s a link to a replay of the show: http://abcnews.go.com/2020

Where Everybody Wants to Be Your Friend; Sunny Personalities, Serious Consequences

So what I learned in school this past year was not really about the 3 R’s – Reading, wRiting and aRithmetic. My faith was strengthened by lessons in love and the power of prayer.

Matthew 19: 14 But Jesus said, “Let the children alone, and do not hinder them from coming to Me; for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.”

I John 3:1-2 See how great a love the Father has bestowed upon us, that we should be called children of God, and such we are…Beloved, now we are children of God, and it has not appeared as yet what we shall be.

Abba, Father- Help us to pause and learn from the children around us.  Remind us to take time to give them attention, guidance and love. Restore to us our once held childlike faith - faith in you, faith in other people, faith in the infinite possibilities of the world.  Restore to us the innocent sense of wonder.  Make us aware of joyful little details that we have missed in our hurry - butterflies and lizards, sunsets and stars, dolphins and turtles. Thank you, thank you for your creation, your care, your calling us to be your children.  Amen.