Long Time, No Blog: a Daybook

Hello.

I've missed you.

I miss writing, and I miss words, and I miss the faithful handful who respond and make me feel like I have something to say.

So today I am diving back in as though someone cares--because the someone who cares is me.

It's a Friday day-book--just because.

Listening to...the No Other Name album by Hillsong.  Does the Lord give you theme songs?  He does that to me all the time.  This album is the background music for this season.

Eating...brussel sprouts!  (Like, for the first time ever.  Brown sugar, balsamic vinegar, olive oil, roasted at 425* for about half an hour.  I'm a believer.)

Checking...things off my packed fall schedule; one class down, just three papers left in the other, and I'll be about 1/6 of the way through this Masters.

Sneezing...ah...because it's time for my annual head cold--choo. 

Missing...a regular exercise schedule, teaching women's Bible study, my college girl

Untying...the knot in my stomach over this school year.  Knowing why would not bring me peace.  Jesus brings me peace, so I'll take it.   By faith, not by sight.

Stunned by...sapphire blue skies, leaves crowning trees like rubies and citrine and topaz. 

Say hello if you will!

Following,

Ginger

The Beautiful Gate

(Two posts in a month!  We should probably celebrate.)

 One night, I manage to slip away from the papers and tests long enough to go with my husband to the track. 

Beside me, Big Red begins his intensive workout--sprints, burpees, and other mind-boggling, sweat-inducing moves.

I walk in circles. 

Big Red is training for a Spartan race.

And I thought, I am training to hold my breath.

So I pray to exhale.

Around the track, around my head, prayers loop and weave in between my parallel lives of teacher, mother, student, wife.

Lesson plans and supper plans and best-laid plans.

The next morning, I'm in Act 3, 

reading about the man at the temple who holds his cup out to Peter and John.  

He's asking for silver,

but he gets something far more precious.

He gets a chance to praise Jesus with everything--

body, soul, spirit.

It's a cool testimony, and one with lots of implications, but my eyes go to the line Luke repeats.

"...the Gate called Beautiful."

It sings like a chorus in my head all day: the gate is beautiful.

The place he sat, day after day, year after year-

 where he looks at Peter and John,

where he listens to Peter's voice,

where he anticipates just enough for today,

where he seizes Peter's right hand,

where  he gets more than he ever thought or imagined.

It was beautiful 

because it was the place where he waited with expectancy and where he accepted what was offered.

This place where I am, 

the place where I'm waiting with my cup out,

looking, listening, expecting,

that's the place Jesus calls beautiful in me.

What looks like brokenness now will look like beauty later.

I don't know what I'm anticipating, 

but I know Jesus well enough to know that it will be more than I bargained for--

and I want to seize it, accept it, 

and leap for joy.

Meanwhile, back at the 'House...

Helllooo!

Anybody stopping by?

I took a blogging break.

I might still take one; I've not decided yet.

Remember when I said this was a good season?

We interrupt this blog post for a 'Where's Waldo?" moment; do you see it?  Look closely...

I didn't have time to change my camera settings--assuming I knew what they should be. 

 It is, but it's within an unreal busy season,

with a ultra-short summer on the school calendar 

(Teachers go back week after next.  Yes, I know summer just started.), 

a soon-to-be college freshman,

a house with projects.

My hands have held paintbrushes. (Interior doors; not blog-worthy, but oh! the difference!)

My head is holding dorm supply lists. (My head is not big enough to hold it.  Things ooze out of one list and ooze onto the next one when I remember.)

My heart is holding John's gospel,

 my girls' faces as they struggle with coming changes,

 my husband in his jaw-dropping garden.

All summer I have chased the days and found them fog-like.  They seem tangible but aren't; they disappear before I have time to enter into them.  

I've forgotten my camera. 

Meanwhile, zinnias bloom, 

blueberries ripen, 

peas promise to take over August.

Today, I exhale. 

Following, 

Ginger

The Grass is Green

Yesterday I attended Day 1 of a two-day college orientation for DD#1.

(Dad is taking his turn today.  Bahaha!!)

Somewhere in between the " Don't helicopter over your college student" (got it; I teach middle school and am well-acquainted with helicopter parenting) and " You will need a second job to pay for this, " I cleaned 519 emails off my account.

True story.

And don't even get me started on FERPA. 

Me no see grades, you no see cash.  Very simple.  

Yesterday evening, this tired mama and the sweet daddy who had swooped in (helicoptered??) to rescue shared a pizza and talked finances, dorm dilemmas, assorted worries about our child.

This morning I was reading about the feeding of the 5000 in John 6.

5 When Jesus looked up and saw a great crowd coming toward him, he said to Philip, “Where shall we buy bread for these people to eat?”  6 He asked this only to test him, for he already had in mind what he was going to do.  7 Philip answered him, “It would take more than half a year’s wages[a] to buy enough bread for each one to have a bite!”   8 Another of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, spoke up,   9 “Here is a boy with five small barley loaves and two small fish, but how far will they go among so many?”    10 Jesus said, “Have the people sit down.” There was plenty of grass in that place, and they sat down (about five thousand men were there). 11 Jesus then took the loaves, gave thanks, and distributed to those who were seated as much as they wanted. He did the same with the fish.

There was plenty of grass in that place. 

Jesus is getting ready to show His disciples yet again that He's sufficient for every need.  He commands them to have the people sit down, and they sat on the grass.

Another gospel tells us it was "green grass". 

Not dirt.  Not sand spurs.  Not gravel. 

Green grass.

I love that detail.  I big-puffy-heart it.  It brought tears to my eyes today, because it is the picture of the God Who overlooks nothing.  He makes me lie down in green pastures.  He meets my need and then some ( a point that He makes again and again in this story.)

Not gonna lie--sending my kid--and in particular, this kid--to college is a big, huge, fat, hairy deal.  It is not small. In fact, between this and work, this fall is loaded up with not small.  

In her book, Rhinestone Jesus,  Kristen Welch shares an email she received during a difficult season:

"'You are not going to lose this battle because it is already WON on the Cross.  I don't believe in losing or getting the victories because Jesus has already done it.  The question is, how far will you do to declare the victory in this battle?  Would two more rescued girls make you know it?  Or two thousand more?  How far will you go to proclaim that the victory was DONE for you?'"

How much will it take for me to know Christ is sufficient for all things?  How many more signs do I need?

He fed 5000 men with five loaves and two fish, and everyone ate as much as they wanted.  There were leftovers.

There was green grass. 

Following,

Ginger

The Good Season

It's summer break here at the 'House.
That means watermelon season is upon us.
I would've taken a picture, but I ate it all before that occurred to me.
I followed up my watermelon appetizer with a lunch of pimento cheese, one of the great foods missed by millions simply because they are Yankees and have never heard of it.
Sad, really.

Simple pleasures, fruit and cheese.  As I've counted gifts this year, I've wondered at how many of them are small things.  I am blessed by minutiae of everyday life.
Yet, in this list of little things, there is large.
The large things are hidden by the tiny piled atop them.

For instance, # 439--"Breakfast out with daughter".

Oh, the significance of that small entry.

My girls tease me when I write about them.  "Mama just writes about how hard it is to have teens!"'

Well, it is hard.
As a friend wrestles with a tragic situation concerning a teen family member, I'm reminded that Jesus is the Only Hope we parents have.
The anxiety is real, and the fights are real, and the regrets are real, and the dangers are real.
There's nothing easy about this gig.

Over the years of parenting, I've asked God for some things, things I've begged to see in my household before my children fly the nest.
One of them will launch all too soon, and these last few months together have been a good season.

Hard (yes), but very, very good.

So "breakfast out" really means "the unfailing love and faithfulness of the LORD".

We've got challenges coming in these months of transitions; of that I'm sure, but we can say that we have seen the goodness of the Lord

I'm not sure who, if anyone, reads this blog, but this is for the weary mamas, the struggling daughters, the ones who wonder if it will ever be better.  What I can say to you is this: I have been there.  There are buckets of tears with my name on them, and there are probably several more sitting on ready, but Jesus will not waste them.  He'll redeem them.  They will lead to my good and His glory, and whatever glorifies Him will have been worth it.  
His unfailing love and faithfulness, His grace and truth, turn breakfast into Bread and Wine.

For your steadfast love is before my eyes,

    and I walk in your faithfulness.

Psalm 26:3

 Following,
Ginger

Pinky Promises

The never-ending school year is done--Hallelujah!--and we have six weeks of house projects, mini-vacations, gardening, college orientations, Bible study, and all the unexpected that will no doubt blow the plan to smithereens before July 30.
Six weeks will go by faster than a greased gnat, so I am making myself a goal list.
This summer I want to
1) get back into an exercise habit after a long-standing routine crashed and burned;
2) lose the creeping pounds (see #1)
3) paint interior doors, dining room chairs, DD#2's bedroom--heck, I might paint Big Red if he stands still long enough
4) NOT think about school at all for at least 5 weeks. (No, you cannot see my fingers crossed behind my back; it's your imagination, I promise.  Really.)(Pinning school things doesn't count.) (My list, my rules.)
and oh, yeah,
5) write a Bible study--at least the rough outline of one.

I need some order, some self-discipline, and a ton of prayer.
Following,
Ginger

Graduation Parties for the Overwhelmed

Last Saturday was party time around here!

It followed the last week of school with kids, and weeks of concerts, banquets, awards nights, and other party-preparation-time-sapping events.

Enter my Top Ten Ways to Throw a Last-Minute Party

1) Have a friend convince your introverted child that others love her enough to attend a graduation bash in her honor.  Save your most convincing spiel for two weeks before.   That way you can't  shouldn't second-guess your decisions.

2)Scour Michael's for milk bottles and yellow chevron straws.  These will delight the graduate and spark her enthusiasm.

3) Hit the dollar store for masses of tissue paper to make these poufs.  Instant (and cheap) pizzazz.

4) Be tempted to kiss the feet of the friend who offers to make potato salad for 50.

5) Spray paint mason jars in your theme color.  Fill them with daisies and Monte Casino.  Be happy. 

6) Bless the friend who shows up at your house while you are at one of those many banquets and makes your graduation hat candies out of Lindor squares and mini-Reeses cups.  Add a tassel of embroidery thread. 

7) Enlist someone else to create an ombre cake.  Top it with pinwheels created on the Silhouette.  Prove to your husband again that you are still thankful he splurged and bought you one for Christmas. 

8) Add "perfect weather for an outdoor party" to your list of 1000 gifts.

9) Eat leftover buffalo chicken and coleslaw for days.

10). Celebrate the end of an era.  Be grateful for the past. Embrace the future.  

Following,

Ginger

May-hem

I had planned a thoughtful, maybe deep post that might appear yet, but I must pause to ponder the merry, merry month of May(hem).

Maybe June is your month when all kinds of crazy collide, 

but ours is now, especially with a graduate in the house.

A graduate who just agreed to a graduation party this week.

("What's the big deal about graduating anyway? Everybody does it!") 

(Her cake-of-choice if someone besides Mom can make it..)

There are two weeks before graduation.

(These are cute and doable!)

(source)

Did I mention her parents teach?

(Another cheesy idea for graduation food.  (I'm tired; can you tell?)

And they have finals for their students--as well as all the usual last-week-of-school chaos--

  the day before graduation?

Adorable, but I might lose my mind!

(source)

(She also detests the phrase, "Congrats, Grad", so that eliminates many options.)

(Though this is super-cute to me!)

(source)

Thank You, Lord, for Pinterest.

I know you can laugh and cry at once, but can one laugh-happy and cry-sad all at the same time, too?

Excuse me while I go put out another fire/call another guest/plan a menu/ roll my eyes at the honoree/grab a tissue.

Following,

Ginger

The Day a Writing Prompt Called Me Out as a Liar

Today, when looking over some potential lessons for next school year, I ran across the old advice, "Write when your students write, and share your writer's notebook with them".
Right up there with "sleep when your baby sleeps," this is probably wise but practically difficult.
So I tried a test run of sorts.
I decided to write a "mentor text" of a personal essay prompt to inspire next year's budding writers.
It was standard stuff, an introductory essay to tell them a bit about my family, my preferences, my goals.

And y'all, it was hard.

Hard for lots of reasons.
Hard because writer's block shows up every spring with the same regularity as allergies.
Hard because I could hear myself rambling.
Hard because I can't share anything meaningful about myself without sharing Jesus, and that must be carefully navigated in public school.

As a teacher, I believe this practice will help me in the long run.
It will probably make me more empathetic--which is important to remember when the powers-that-be seem to think all children-of-the-square-peg variety can be jammed through the same round hole-of-testing if only
their teacher is differentiating/summarizing/reteaching/tap-dancing enough.

As just me, I think this practice will help me, too.

A few months ago, I confessed to a friend that I felt God might be leading me to write down what He was teaching me in John.
She laughed, and said, "Of course."
A few days ago, I confessed to this same friend that I was feeling ill with insecurity--that I didn't know how to begin.
She said, "Good!  I'm praying you stay insecure so that you always know He is your source."

She's a very good friend, and a very good pray-er.

To paraphrase one of those Pinterest-y inspirational signs, here I go confidently in the direction of my insecurity.
(Or insecurely in the direction of my confidence?  That might be a better way to say it.)
Maybe in the meantime, I'll share my writer's notebook with you.
Following,
Ginger

On Writing

Writing is both solitary and social.
Solitary, because sooner or later it is just writer and blank page with no mediator.
It's the heart or the brain on paper, as public as a blog post or as private as a prayer journal.

Yet writing is also social, because every author seeks an audience on some level or another.

This question of audience puzzles me.
It makes me realize that establishing a legitimate audience for my classroom of I-wish-they-were-writers is an important component of my teaching that I've neglected.

Then my question becomes, " Who is my audience?", and I struggle to answer that.

I'm in the midst of my annual spring blogging slump, and every year I ask my Audience of One if I still have a purpose here.
He hasn't really answered yet, except to give me this post--which I suppose means I have today's answer!

I do know this. 
About two months ago,  He whispered to my heart that there are words waiting for me from the book of John, and while fear and self-doubt assail,  He's been faithful to encourage.  

So I wait for the solitary and the social to find their meeting place.

Following,
Ginger

Taking a Walk

It's spring break here at the 'House, 

and all God's children said, "Amen!"

So even though the weather hasn't been particularly spring-like, 

this morning the sun was winning,

and the light and the green were calling,

and I took my walk in defiance of wind and pollen.

Want to come along?

I love this little stream that feeds the neighborhood pond.

Yellow dandelions polka-dot the road...

...while the dogwoods above are just beginning to bloom.

When I was a little girl, I picked these tiny violets by the handful, filling old vanilla bottles with their sweet, fragrant blossoms.

This calf never would come near enough for a clear close-up, but he posed nicely while I tried to figure out the zoom on my phone camera.

Another lap around and we'll have done two miles.  

Meanwhile,Big Red is braving the wind to plant phlox on our steep hillside.

I'm dashing off to the dentist (and tomorrow to another appointment, and the next day to another...poor planning on my part!)

Thanks for visiting!

Following,

Ginger

Daybook of a Used-to-be Blogger

Helloooo out there!

Anyone still around?

Since it's Friday afternoon,

and right this moment I have time and inclination (a necessary combination),

I present this week in verbs:

Listening: to birdsong, the humming refrigerator--the sounds of an otherwise empty house

Preparing: to celebrate 20 years with my honey, for state testing in a few weeks, to put together this summer's Bible study

Watching: clouds roll in, laundry pile up

Pondering: a friend's birthday gift, the book of John, how to get groceries into my house without actually venturing to the grocery store

Searching Google for: Reader's Workshop materials for middle school, kelly green ankle pants (which appear to be only part of my fantasy wardrobe), recipes that don't require a grocery run

Losing: my voice, patience during 3rd period today, half of every pair of socks I own

Pinning: classroom ideas for next year, Easter tables, pictures of Scotland

Needing: a nap, some prayers answered, perpective

What's on your verb list?

Following,

Ginger

Mighty and Mundane

The Dreaded Triumvirate: February, March, and April.

Imagine you're slogging through a snowstorm, icy wind in your face, drifts in your path.  Then suddenly you step off the edge of a cliff into a raging waterfall.  You tumble downward, grasping for anything to slow your fall.  You're drowning in the rapids.  ( That's state testing, if you're lost in the melodramatic metaphor. )

Then, just as you catch your breath and think you might breathe again,  you discover you're trapped in a whirlpool.  ( That's May and endess days of post-planning.)

Hyperbole aside, we're halfway through the worst stretch of the school year--

the point in the year where I--and consequently, this blog--get boring and lame.

I could wax eloquent about standardized testing,

or complain about students,

or bemoan life surrounded by teenagers in the throes of hormonal meltdowns.

I could talk about birthdays and flourless chocolate cakes and dinners with friends.

How about endless winter or meatloaf recipes?

I could write about John's gospel, and Christ's deity, and Living Water, and the untroubled heart.

Mighty and mundane side by side, juxtaposed in my year-older brain.

And it's March.

Following,

Ginger

Linking at Three-Word Wednesday

This and That

Doing a lot of this

Eating a lot of that:

Enjoying a lot of this:

Anticipating the return of that (plus freezing temperatures along with the clouds):

Using this (like, every day):

Overwhelmed with that:

Needing a lot more of this:

That's all I can manage today!

Following,

Ginger

Mulitude Monday:The I Can Imagine It Will One Day Be Spring Edition

Happy Monday!

Believe it or not, our school system managed to eck out a few days of Winter Break despite some snow days, 

so here I am at home again on a Monday. 

I must confess I love being home on Monday.

It's almost...decadant,somehow, like an orange cream cheese scone.

It's a gift.

204. The whole world coated in sugar frosting.

205....but now it's melted! #IlovetheSouth

206. Milder weather for a few days

207. Being able to take my walk outside without icy winds and/or mud puddles

208. House church meeting here yesterday--I love opening my home.

209. New faces in our group--with two of the best-behaved children I've ever met.

210. A friend being able to begin college classes again.

211. Red in the morning--even if it is "shepherd's warning".

212. Tree silhouettes.

213-214. Heavy red fleece and bright green top for a total of $6. I love thrifting!

215. Purple flowers from the grocery store

216. Pinterest..and pinterest projects done!

217. Teen having lunch with a friend

218, A whole day planned with my friend on Wednesday!

219. PW's sour cream pancakes

220. hugs from a 14 year old!

222. Teen-meltdown-crisis that ends in laughter and forgiveness

223. Pain in my back much better

224. " Truth...is God's very reality revealing itself--occuring!--in Jesus." (quoted in The New International Commentary on the New Testament)

What are you counting today?

Following,

Ginger

Linking here

When Winter Makes You Weary

It's a white world out my window.

If forecasts are to be trusted, we might as well get comfortable, for we are about to be officially snowed in.

While part of me loves a good snow day (or two), worries over losing power and worries over losing test prep time at school tend to spoil the fun for grown-ups.

The truth is this: February and March are hard for me, bad weather aside.

I'm weary, the kids are grumpy, the assignments are backing up, and the pressure to get through it all is mounting.

Last week, the coach (facing his own issues with weather and work) and the students who live here claimed the computer. 

 I confess I was secretly glad because discouragement had swept in like a polar vortex, and I simply had nothing of worth to say.

Psalm 40:16-17

 But may all who seek you

    rejoice and be glad in you;

may those who love your salvation

    say continually, “Great is the Lord!”

 I am oppressed and needy!

May the Lord pay attention to me!

You are my helper and my deliverer!

O my God, do not delay!

Today, with a prayer to bless the Lord, to focus on truth, to call the seclusion and silence of this snow rest, I am counting gifts.

183. Spending last weekend with my mom.

184. Being in the car with teens--and enjoying it!

185. Power still on!

186. Laughing with my witty children.

187. Salted caramel brownies. Oh, my.

source

188. Marshmallow cocoa.

189. Big, fat snowflakes.

190. Arm-knitting, which is kind of like magic.

191. Better library books after a few weeks of duds

192.It doesn't matter how I ask the question; Jesus is still the Answer.

193.The Living Water is deeper than the well.

194.Grace...instead of grace.

Following,

Ginger

Linking up at Multitude Monday...even though it's Tuesday

Tuesday at Dark Thirty

It's Tuesday, dark and early,

and I've exercised (go, me) 

and made the coffee...

and school got cancelled.

Ah, well.

No sleeping in for me on our predicted snow day.

Instead, I sit in pre-dawn darkness and count blessings, 

a day late by Blogsphere standards

 because I spent yesterday evening

blessed by a long conversation with my best friend.

(She's also my hairdresser--long talks and fresh color for the win!)

 Regardless of the day of the week,

are you counting gifts?

Seeing small helps me live large.

140. snow day!'

141. heat

142. a good night's sleep in a warm bed

143. just a hint of flavored coffee mixed with French roast--yum

144. Lemon Cheesecake Muffins--'cause who doesn't need another lemon muffin?

145. watching sisters hug one another willingly!

146. long conversations with a friend

147. a friend who immediately "gets" your dream

148. the discipline of early exercise

149. watching God's people step up to the plate to meet a need

150.  Hearing my mother's voice on the phone

Following,

Ginger

Linking up with Multitude Monday

Gifts

One of the things I love about photography is that it taught me to see.

Angles, light, shadow--pictures form in my head even when my camera isn't in hand.

Counting gifts teaches seeing. 

John 1 says "we have seen His glory"--

and I wonder, what if that is not just for disciples who saw Him in the flesh;

what if it is also for us, that with vision, we also could see His glory.

Lord, teach me to see.

It's Monday, 

and a day off from school (yay),

 and I am relishing this day at home and counting gifts.

#101-#111

101. Mama doing so much better!

102. frost so heavy it looks like snow

103. fire in the fireplace

104. Lemon Pound Cake muffins

105. a rainbow of fruit in a wooden bowl

106. my bifocals ;0

107. someone speaking His Word to my child--and she listened

108. The Word will win because the Light wins

109.Tiny blossoms on baby's breath

110. sleeping in

111. Jan Karon's books--like comfort food for my mind

112. the earache and snow that kept me from visiting Mama this weekend wasn't around when she had her surgery

113. Jesus made His tabernacle with me
Following,
Ginger