Not your typical angel...

     I read a book by Max Lucado called An Angel's Story several years back.  I loved this book so much that I read it to my kids every Christmas.  I started with my Sunday School kids, my Awana kids, then my own kids at home, and last year I took it to school and read it to three classes of 5th and 6th graders.  This year I plan to read it to the freshmen and the seniors.
     The main character is Gabriel.  The Gabriel.  And the story is a fictional story (based on what we know to be true in the Bible) about how God's plan of sending Jesus to Earth unfolded in Heaven.  In the opening scene God calls Gabriel to the Throne Room to tell him of his plan and Lucifer arrives.  This book is so intense and so full of action and battles and raw emotion.  It would make an amazing feature film on the silver screen.  (Although I'm scared to death of what Hollywood would do to it.)    
     There's a point in the book when Jesus is about to be born and the angels are all in attendance at the stable.  They are speechless to see Jesus as a helpless infant. Then, they are reminded of their orders... 

"at the pounding of the nail you will not save him.  You will watch, you will hear, you will yearn, but you will not rescue."

    Their emotion is gut wrenching.  At this point when reading aloud, my throat constricts and my voice go low and gravel-y.  I have to pause before I can push on through.  I love this book and cannot wait to read it in a couple of weeks.

     Thinking about heavenly angels and then these pathetic earthly things we use to represent angels... beautiful women with long flowing hair or chubby naked babies.. I decided No More Misrepresentation!  So I went on a treasure hunt.  I started with an internet search for angel action figures and found "Angel" from Marvel Comics' X-Men.

      I know nothing about the character "Angel" or the story line in which he plays, but he is exactly what I was looking for in an angel.  I went to eBay and bid on 3 of them, and soon they were shipped to my door.  I gave one to my friend, I took one to school,  
    








and the third one is where every angel is supposed to be at Christmas time....

 on top of my Christmas tree.  He's a wonderful conversation piece.  Many ask, and I love to tell them the story....

They said...

They said.... we teach high school. Parents don't come to parent/teacher conferences.
They said... I get so much done in my room that day.
They said... you might have a couple of parents, but that'll be about it.

Well, they were wrong! I had parents in my room steadily all day. Literally, I was without a break. Some I met for the first time, and others, I have taught their younger children. I smiled and greeted parents, I explained my philosophy, and I listened to parents tell me about their children's strengths and their quirks as well as their needs. At the end of the day, I was exhausted and not prepared for the rest of the week. Not a paper graded or a lesson plan made. Then I went to volleyball games for the rest of the evening and snapped yearbook pictures. Some days, that's how it goes.

I was surprised at how pleased I felt that parents cared enough to come and check out the new English teacher. Just another morsel validating my feelings about my school... things I believed to be true about it... to now, things I know are true about it. I have the support of my students' parents, and they are thankful for me. For me. That's humbling. So many changes in the English classes have been difficult for some of my older students. I am so very different from my predecessor. My strengths are very different and my passions are different. My expectations are different and my temperament is different. I knew it would be an adjustment for everyone, and I knew I would have some stubborn students who would just dig in their heels and resist the change... any change. I also believed that I could win them over in the end. I just keep doing what I do, and slowly and surely, they are falling in line behind me. I don't pretend that every one of them likes me, but I don't care if they like me. I care if they are equipped with the tools they need to be successful in their futures.

The next morning I complained to my colleagues. I told them how popular I was the day before. They whole heartily laughed and told me they had forgotten that I was the new teacher and that parents probably would want to meet me. CBA doesn't have new teachers very often. I can see why they forgot. I'll make a note-to-self to be sure and notify the next new teacher at CBA... whenever that may be.

Just a reminder...

So far this summer I've chalked up a lot of windshield time.  My girls and I drove to Minnesota to see family. My cousin, Katie,  graduated high school with about 400 others in her class.  We didn't go to her graduation though... I'd rather go to a wedding or a funeral than a graduation.  Graduations are so tedious, so we went and celebrated with Katie and our family for three days instead.  Katie didn't care; she was just glad we were there.  We drove about 900 miles to be there; she felt the love.

But in the days just before we left for our planned trip to Minnesota, Aunt Jane's daddy died.  Aunt Jane is, well.... Aunt Jane.  She's one of the most special people in the world.  She's just one of those people in your life who makes you feel like you're always home when you're with her, and there's always homemade cookies coming out of the oven- just for you.  Janie is from west Texas.  Janie's daddy was also from west Texas; therefore, we had to make a decision if we would be attending a funeral for a man we've never met in a place we've never been and spend 9 hours in the car to boot.  Also we were leaving for our planned trip north in two days.  Sigh.  What to do....  we didn't want to go.  We also didn't want to miss it. 

I texted Aunt Jane and asked her specifics on when and where the services would be held the next day.  She didn't text me back.  My phone rang instead.  "Why?  You're not coming are you? (no space or breath) That will be 9 hours in the car. (still no break) I love you, and I understand, but you DON'T have to come. (slight pause)  Really."  I chuckled and told her we were "thinking" about it although the decision had really already been made.  She went into another sentiment about how much she loves us and gush, gush, gush (in lieu of blah, blah, blah) ending with a cracking voice and a few tears. Needless to say, we went.  Oh, yes, it was a long, uneventful day, but it didn't feel wasted.  Not a minute.  The next day we received a card from Aunt Jane, and part of it went like this:
          "Thank you so much for the beautiful flowers you sent, but also for making the very long trip to Plainview.  I love you all so much, and it made my heart feel so good to see your faces there.  We know you love us, and you know we love you, but I was surprised how very good it made me feel- how very loved by wonderful family- to see your sweet faces there.  I didn't want you to make that trip, but I'm so happy you did.  If you ever wonder if the nice things you do for others really matter- I want to be sure you remember that they do.  Even when somebody tells you it's not necessary!"

Just a reminder... it matters.  Do what you can.  Love others and serve others selflessly.  Discern when it matters and when it doesn't.  Put your efforts where it counts because time is precious and... it matters.

What song would the Piper play for you?

Ah, the Pied Piper of Hamelin.  We read the Robert Browning version of the piper story recently in sixth grade.  Don't quite remember it?  A rat infestation plagued a small community in Brunswick.  Soon the town's folk stormed the city hall and demanded a solution from the mayor and his council of obese imbeciles who were hopeless to find a fix.  The problem was quite serious... the rats were "fighting the dogs and killing the cats".  Soon a queer fellow raps on the door and offers to rid the mayor and his city of the problem for $1000.  The mayor, exasperated and a bit unbelieving runs off his mouth and says if he can indeed do it, he'll give him $50,000!  Well, the piper plays his pipe and lures all the rats to the rolling river and in the river where they all drown, save one.  So the piper fixes the problem, returns for his $1000, and the mayor refuses to pay.  He offers the piper a meager $50 for the extermination of his epic problem.  Thus the phase "it's time to pay the piper..."  Keep your promises and pay your debts.  The piper is not one to be trifled with... he went back onto the street and piped a tune that this time lured all the children of the town away, save one.... forever.  How did he do it?  The stories from the rat who survived and the lame boy who couldn't keep up are the same... the piper's song is so enthralling and cunning.  It promises each creature the desires of his heart if he just follow.  The old rat described it "like a great sun shone glorious, scarce an inch before me... soon, I found the Weser (river) rolling o'er me."  The boy with the lame foot was in utter despair that he couldn't keep up and spends the rest of his life in depression and remorse over the situation.  The piper's song had promised him healing. 

So, what would the piper's song sing to me?  I thought for a short moment.  What fun!  Suntanned skin year round and blaze orange polish on my toes with warm sand between them... Hair that never needed styled and a PX90 body without the PX90 workout... the sun on my face and a gentle, warm breeze on my back.  Health, and hands that work all the time...  Never have to eat again...  Ooh, this IS fun.  I could go on and on. But what is the cost?  Do I get to have my husband beside me?  My children?  My family and my wonderful friends?  What about my God?  Does he get to come, too? I have a hunch that the answer is, sadly, no.  Keep focus on what is real and what really matters. The rest will be destroyed.  Exert energies on what is eternal... people.  Find people generally fickle?  Adjusting our attitudes and saving our judgments does wonders for our heart condition and ultimately our acceptance of people in general.  We are not perfect.  In fact, we are quite messy.

I assigned my sixth grades the question "What song would the piper play for you?"  I didn't spend any time predicting what kind of responses they would give me.  Naturally, some talked about very trivial things... chocolate, no homework, etc.  Others, however, were very thoughtful in answering the question... one girl said that she would sit at God's feet and ask him questions.  Another wanted to be friends with Queen Ester and described what the two of them would do together in great detail.  Others talked about healing relationships in their families and places where people loved each other and love them all the time.  I almost wept.  Me, too.... me, too.

Golden Eagle basketball...



O how I've missed you friends...  I have so much to share but so little time to write.  Right now, I'm keeping up with my life, my children, my other 29 children, and my household.  I have been snapping a few pictures and capturing some great shots.  Here are a few of my favorites from the elementary basketball season this year.  My fifth grader Rayne is #4 and my sixth grader Rosalind is #24.  I am a very proud mama of these two tough little players.... they're a joy to watch.

At first glance, this is an average shot of a jump ball... then I noticed #4 was also in the air.
 I guess she was helping her teammate, Kim, jump.  Now that's a team player/cheerleader all in one!

Take it to the bucket!  You've got her beat!

Autumn going for the ball

Andre moving to the bucket

Ref, look! and blow your whistle!  My girl's being fouled.

Garrin #30 is being pounded by two fourth graders in the same colored jerseys...
easy boys, he's on your team.

Great position girls!  Waiting for the rebound...

Rosalind shooting two



Rayne and Abby "taking care of" the opponent