Beneficiaries and Action-Bearers

Yes.

God cares about the hungry,
God cares about the poor,
God is concerned with the problems of this world.

Yet instead of sending food
or clothing
or fixing all that was wrong,
God sent Jesus

To show us how to live in this broken world.

 

You see,

God was more concerned about the humanity’s separation from the

True nature and character of God

Than He was about a quick fix to the wrongs, injustices, and inadequacies of this world.

(Because)

A right relationship with God through Jesus--
Forgiveness and redemption from sin

That allows us to take part in God’s infinite
Goodness, mercy, and grace--
Will compel us all to

Feed the hungry (and)
Clothe the poor (and)
Work together
To alleviate the wrongs, injustices, and inadequacies of this world.

 

You see,

Through God’s miraculous and mysterious ways,

We are the living, breathing

Hands and feet of

The Christ-child

Born, living, and breathing,

Two thousand years ago.

 

We are the continued beneficiaries and action-bearers of the

Greatest Gift ever given:

A life of perfection,

Fully God, fully Man,

Fully Divine, fully Human,

Fully showing us

How to live, breathe, and walk

In Love.

 

 

Amen.

F vs. T

 

I'm an F. Relationships are the most important thing in my life. All of my decisions are filtered through the lens of relationship.

 

I have a friend who is a T.  Raw facts and logic are what drive her. All of her decisions are based on the black and white of a situation. 

 

Being an F is not better than being a T. Being a T is not better than being an F. They are just fundamentally different ways of making decisions.

 

For some of us, our F or our T is our dominant function. It develops in us before anything else. It is what we naturally do. It is what we are best at. 

 

The catch is this: For every dominant function, there is an equally inferior function. Therefore, if the F or T is the dominant function, then the other is the inferior function--what develops last, what we don't naturally do, what we are worst at. 

 

My inferior function is my T. I am not good at making decisions based on raw facts and logic. I do not see things in black and white. I have trouble making decisions without taking relationships into account first.  

 

My friend's inferior function is her F. She is not good at making decisions based on how they will affect the people in her life. As such, she sometimes comes across as harsh or brash. She's not necessarily trying to be. She's just making decisions based on impersonal data.  

 

As we get older, if we are truly on a journey toward growth and maturity, then our inferior function will strengthen. We will gain more command of it and learn how to better use it. If, however, we are not on a journey toward growth and maturity, then our inferior function will remain the same and we will remain stagnant in our ability to make decisions.  

 

As I've gotten older, I've learned more of how to make decisions using raw facts and logic. It takes time. It takes effort. It is very often uncomfortable--especially when I know that my decision may not be popular. It is not easy for me.  But I can do it. And I must do it if I am to make difficult decisions. 

 

As my friend has gotten older, she has learned how to make decisions based on how they will affect relationships. It takes time. It takes effort. It is very often uncomfortable for her--especially when she makes a decision that goes against logic. It is not easy for her. But she can do it. And she must do it if she is not to burn all bridges in her life.  

 

Dear Friends...I don't know what you are, an F or a T. But I know this: I hope that you now have a better understanding of the difference between the two and that you can now see the fundamental dichotomy that they present. When someone says or does something you don't understand, take a minute to ask: Could they be filtering their decision through a lens that I don't naturally filter my decisions through? If so, can I try to understand where they are coming from? Can I try to be a picture of the grace that God so freely extends me? 

 

Don't get me wrong. Being a T isn't an excuse for being a jerk, just as being an F isn't an excuse for always being a people pleaser. But maybe, just maybe, even in our differences and shortcomings, we can start the journey toward being our best selves, dominant and inferior functions alike. 

Helpless

 

The first time she swerved into the other lane, I thought it was an accident. 

 

The first time she served off the road and into the grass, I thought she had just over-corrected from swerving into the other lane. 

 

But then it happened again. And again. And again. And I knew that something was wrong. I had no idea what to do. I wasn't sure if calling 911 would do any good before disaster struck. So I simply kept my distance and prayed that I wouldn't witness a horrific head-on collision.  

 

I knew that things weren't going to be good when we got to town. The chances of her making it through town without causing a wreck were slim to none. And sure enough, at the very first stop light, she stopped for a moment, but then decided to run the light. As she did, she caught the front drivers' side of a young lady turning left. The young lady stopped her damaged-but-drivable car in the middle of the road, obviously angry. The erratic driver swerved to the right, off the road, and just missed a telephone pole. Her car steamed from its injuries. 

 

Thankfully, everyone was okay. It was early on a Sunday morning, so there wasn't a lot of traffic. The incident didn't cause further incident, and the woman, high as a kite, was stopped without fatality.

 

But still, I felt helpless.

 

I suppose that's why I've dreamed of being helpless for the past two nights. Helpless is one of of the worst feelings in the world to me. Seeing someone swerving all over the road in real life. Watching your loved ones fall into a chasm and not being able to rescue them in your dream. Helpless. Helpless. Helpless.

 

What about you? What are the feelings that are the worst in the world to you? What are the feelings that you just can't shake for awhile after having them?

 

Oh God. When we are helpless, or experiencing any other feelings of angst, You still Are. Even when we don't understand. Even when we struggle to believe. You still Are. Thank you. Amen.   

Human Blankets

 

I was lying in bed thinking about Myers Briggs Personality Type last night (specifically the difference between the thinking and feeling functions), when I suddenly had a revelation about something completely different: It's not the blanket that keeps you warm, it's your own body heat that keeps you warm.

 

Go ahead. Roll your eyes at me or hit your forehead with your palm. Maybe I should have realized this sooner. But I really, truly just made the connection that it's not the blanket or the clothes or anything else that keeps you warm. It's you, yourself, that keeps you warm. The other stuff just helps the heat not escape.

 

Friends: The human body is an amazing thing. And the human spirit is, too. There are days when we feel like we can't make it. There are times when we feel like life's stress, angst, darkness, and/or uncertainty is going to overwhelm us. But when we look deep inside, we realize that we have everything we need to make it through. Sure, we may only have enough courage to mutter for help. We may need a human blanket to help our strength not escape. But even then, the strength is inside us to push through. Even then, we are the ones doing the work by the strength that God has embedded within the human spirit. 

 

Oh God, Creator of Strength and Courage, Creator of Warmth and Heat...Thank you for the systems that you put into place to give us all that we need to make it through this life. You are the source of it all. And all we can do is say Thanks. Amen. And Amen.

Pill Box Collection

 

I don’t know if it’s a real memory or if it’s one that I’ve made up, but I have this memory of my mom always having a pill box in her purse. The memory is so strong that, at one point in my life, I believed that everyone had a pill box in her purse. 

 

Naturally, then, when my Grandmother Deaton died and we found a pill box in her stuff, I decided that it was a good time to start my own pill box collection. In the fifteen years since that beginning, my collection has grown to over 45.  

 

I have all of my pill boxes in a curio cabinet and catalogued on a spreadsheet. It’s neat to look at their descriptions and see who gave me what and when. One of my favorites is a box that G-mama gave me during a time when we both took the same blood pressure medicine. She gave me the box and included one blood pressure pill with the gift! The pill is still in the box 😊. Another of my favorites is an orange fish box that one of my choir members gave me when I was music minister at Antioch. Who knew that someone could find something that combined both of my collections so beautifully!...

 

Each year at Christmastime, my school hosts Secret Santa. As part of Secret Santa, we fill out a form with our likes and dislikes. While some of my likes change from year to year, I always list that I collect orange fish and pill boxes. Thanks to Nemo, I’ve received many orange fish over the years, but I’d never received a pill box…until this year!  

 

Tuesday was sparkle and shine day. I figured that I’d get a shiny ornament for the day, but instead I received two shiny pill boxes! I was elated! I immediately showed off my new boxes to my coworkers and then almost as immediately added the new acquisitions to my spreadsheet! Two more boxes for my collection!

 

What about you? What do you collect? Or what did you used to collect before you started cleaning things out in an effort to simplify? Collections may not always have a definite beginning but they almost always have a definite significance and meaning. I'd love to hear about yours this Holiday Season.  

Not A Terrible Year

 

I'm going to say something that might not be very popular, but...

 

2020 hasn't been a terrible year for me. 

 

It's been challenging. It's been very different than any other year. I will remember the year that we experienced a world-wide pandemic. But it's not been a terrible year that I'm desperate to see end. 

 

Crazy, I know. But it's true.

 

I've actually enjoyed being forced to slow down and examine what is truly essential in life. I've enjoyed making meals at home with my mom and dad. I've enjoyed getting some things cleaned out of the house. I've enjoyed catching up with a few friends in person and many friends via text and Facebook. I've enjoyed having counseling via telehealth rather than having to drive to Raleigh and get stuck in Raleigh traffic every other week. I've enjoyed going to the grocery store to buy groceries every week. I've enjoyed lying in my hammock. I've enjoyed not feeling obligated to be in ten places at once. I've enjoyed officiating tiny weddings. I've even sort of enjoyed the challenge of figuring out how to teach in new ways (but not completely--because it's been really hard). 

 

Yet I find myself feeling guilty for saying that I've enjoyed anything during a year where so many people have enjoyed nothing.  It brings to light the fact that I am a person of privilege—privileged to have a steady job, reliable transportation, safe housing, a loving family, solid friends, and decent health. Not everyone can say the same.  

 

Truthfully, my heart breaks because of this. For inequality and injustice. And for the numerous people carrying the weights of grief and loss. Just yesterday, I spent the day moving a friend out of her house, feeling the tension of divorce. I am exhausted today. The weight of it all hurts deeply--physically, spiritually, and emotionally. The year hasn't been kind to so many people. I feel the ramifications of this reality. And yet, I must confess, through it all, I am okay.

 

What about you? Through it all, are you okay?

 

There are have many bad things in 2020. Sorrow, tragedy, heartache, disappointment. But there have also been many good things this year. Elation, new life, healing, hope.

 

Where do you fall in your judgment of this weird time? What will you remember about your year?

Not My Day

 

I was deep in thought this morning when it came time to roll out of my classroom and into the building. 

 

After running into the door with my cart, I made it to my first class just in time, only to realize that I was maskless. It was like I was living a bad dream. 

 

Feeling completely naked, I started class, vowing to stay really far away from all students. I was planning to run back to my classroom after class until I realized that I could send an SOS to the school nurse. I did. And she brought me a mask. Problem solved!

 

Half way through class, though, I went to consult my lesson plans. They weren't on my cart. I had left them on my desk.  

 

Then, three-fourths of the way through class, I got a notification that my computer battery was low. I went to plug in my computer only to realize that I'd left the charger in the room, too.  

 

After class, I haul-tailed it back to my classroom to get my mask, my lesson plans, and my computer charger. I made it to my next class just in time to get my computer plugged in and set up before it died. I went to consult my lesson plans, though, and...I'd left them in my room again! Unbelievable! But...at least I was masked with power!

 

I got my lesson plans after my second class and finally had everything I needed for the day. But when I went to eat my sandwich at lunch, I noticed that I'd made my sandwich with the bread not turned the same way. And after lunch, when I needed the internet to work back in my classroom, the internet refused to connect so I had to scramble back into the building before my next class started. In my haste, I just grabbed my computer, charger, and lesson plans, not thinking about the fact that I needed the menorah, kinara, and nativity scene on my cart. By that point, I just laughed. It's a Thursday Monday.

 

In the last wedding that I officiated, I told the bride and groom: Some days will be joyful, others will be sad.  Some days will be easy, others will be challenging. Some days you will get things right, other days you will get them miserably wrong. But through it all, let love be your guide.

 

I can safely say that today has been a challenging day when I have gotten things miserably wrong! But that's okay.  Because my spirit has remained guided by love. And I've been able to laugh at myself and show myself grace. And tomorrow is another day. Tomorrow is another chance to get things right. 

Misplaced Expectations

 

"I have the annual holiday wreath making event tomorrow," Barb The Art Teacher said. "You should come. It starts at 10, but you should get there around 9:30."

 

And so I went. 

 

I thought I was supposed to go to the art studio. I was actually supposed to go to Barb's house. 

 

I thought I needed to be there at 9:30 to get a seat. I was actually supposed to get there early so I could ride with Barb to a farm.

 

I thought the event started at 10. It actually was a floating event that was scheduled from 10 until 2. We got there around 11:30. 

 

I thought that there would be a teacher guiding me through the wreath-making process. It was actually a come and make-as-you-can process. 

 

I thought that there would be a small selection of greenery to choose from. There were actually 10-15 different types of greenery and countless embellishments. 

 

I thought that I would be placing individual pieces of greenery into a Styrofoam mold. I actually placed seven bundles of pre-arranged greenery into a wire form. 

 

I thought that there would be a small group of people indoors, wearing masks. There was actually a rather large group of people outdoors, not wearing masks (except for me).

 

I thought that there would be plenty of space to work. I actually had a very small table.  

 

I thought that I would be finished and on my way home by noon. I actually left to go home around 3. 

 

I thought that I would enjoy a low-key wreath-making experience on a Saturday morning. I actually spent the majority of my day completely overwhelmed. 

 

The whole day was a day of misplaced expectations. But it was the perfect day to practice mindfulness. 

 

I wish that I could tell you that I adjusted nicely to all of my misplaced expectations. I did not. I really was overwhelmed by the enormity of it all and I couldn't get past the large number of people not wearing masks. But I tried. 

 

I tried to focus on how happy Barb was. I tried to enjoy the lovely weather and the beautiful scenery of the farm. I tried to smile at the glee in children's voices as they yelled, "Hay ride!" I tried to be content as I watched Barb make a wreath for her mom after she had just made one for mine. I tried to acknowledge how uncomfortable I felt and let those feelings pass through me when they came. "I will do better next year," I kept telling myself. "I will know what to expect. And I will plan accordingly. And I will not be overwhelmed."

 

Even though the day was nothing like I expected, I'm glad that I went to the holiday wreath making event with Barb. It was an experience that I won't soon forget, and it yielded a wonky, yet sort of pretty, wreath for my mom. 

 

What about you? What is something you've experienced that has completely gone against your expectations? Were you able to make the most of it or were you completely overwhelmed? 

 

Every moment of every day is a moment to practice mindfulness. Good, bad. Happy, sad. We can be present wherever we are for such a time as this...even when the time is floating but you expected it to be fixed. 

Thanks + Giving

 

Contrary to what it might seem, we are not huge Christmas decorating fans at the Deaton Household. We especially don’t anxiously debate how soon is too soon to decorate for Christmas because, truthfully, we’re often lucky to get decorated for Christmas at all!

 

“So, why are you decorated before Thanksgiving this year?” you might ask.

 

Because our sweet Amelia started a tradition that, after Thanksgiving, she would with us and help us decorate for Christmas. She did it last year and looked forward to it all year this year…and I don’t think her time here disappointed her.

 

“Wait,” you might say. “Thanksgiving is today. Have you gone back to the future?”

 

No. My family celebrated Thanksgiving together with a socially distant celebration on Sunday. Afterwards, Amelia chose to spend her entire Fall Break at our house, helping mom put up the mantle decorations, the main tree, the Hallmark bands, and other miscellaneous items; and helping me set out the nativity scenes, purchase and organize my secret Santa gifts, make my first gingerbread house, and put up a second tree in the music room (under mom’s supervision).

 

We had an absolutely glorious time…and…the house is decorated for Christmas!...

 

A good friend of mine posted something this morning that really made me think. In essence, the word Thanksgiving is made of two words: thanks + giving. I know, for me, I always focus on the first part of the word during the Thanksgiving season. I give thanks for friends and family, home and work, food and drink, indoor plumbing and outdoor fire pits. I encourage my students to give thanks for their teachers and their other blessings. I give thanks openly and readily on Thanksgiving Day, exchanging text and Facebook messages with friends near and far. But how often do I give? And what can I give today that will make someone else’s life better?

 

Amelia gave her time to me and my family this Thanksgiving season. She gave her smile and laughter, her creativity and strength. And she made our lives better.

 

So what can you give today? Tomorrow? This Thanks-giving and beyond? Let’s give thanks, yes. Absolutely give thanks! We cannot give thanks enough!

 

But, friends, let’s not forget the giving. For Thanks-giving comes in two parts. And for both, we can, and should, be grateful.     

Taking Jesus At His Word

A few Sundays ago, I heard a sermon that connected to my core. As part of the sermon, the pastor addressed an anonymous writer who questioned the authenticity of the church's belief in Jesus and Jesus' word.  In response to the writer, the pastor publicly declared the following: 

 

"We...take Jesus at his word. We believe that we are to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, welcome the stranger, visit the sick and the prisoner. 

 

We take Jesus at his word: to bring good news to the poor, to proclaim release to the captives, recovery of sight to the blind, and to let the oppressed go free. 

 

We take Jesus at his word: blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called the children of God. 

 

We take Jesus at his word: to love our neighbor as ourselves. 

 

We take Jesus at his word: there is neither Jew nor Greek nor Muslim nor American; male nor female...slave or free, better than and less than; Christian or non-Christian, we are all one in God’s kin-dom." (Nancy E. Petty)

 

Yes! I thought. This is the Jesus I know, love, serve, and follow! This is the Jesus who lived and died a life worthy of my honor and praise. That is the Jesus who brought me out of darkness and into light. That is the Jesus who sits at my core and guides my every day.

 

Truthfully, what the pastor said is nothing new. She pulled her responses straight from scripture. She stated things that I've heard my whole life. And yet...in today's world of increasingly polarized Christianity, we add all kinds of rules, regulations, and guidelines to our religion. We make it so ridiculously complicated that we forget the heart of what Jesus taught about living out our faith. So being reminded of those words that day was so refreshingly beautiful that it cut straight to my heart. And I am grateful.

 

What is the last sermon, book, or talk that cut straight to your heart? What was its message? What is it that sits in your core and guides you every day? Please consider sharing. I'd love to hear this Thanksgiving season.

Lovely Needy People

 

Amazon Music is a wonderful thing. 

 

Every Monday, it provides me with a Discovery Playlist--a compilation of 25 songs that I otherwise would never hear--an introduction into a world of music previously unknown to me. The list changes every week and is based on my listening preferences. One week the list may be full of Christian music. One week showtunes. One week folk/singer/songwriter. One week a mixture of them all.

 

As I was making my way through this week’s playlist, singing along to versions of songs that I'd never heard yet somehow heard a hundred times, I heard a song that was completely new to me. At first, the piano part drew me in. (I'm a sucker for a good piano-driven song!) But then, it was the words...

 

I was so moved by the song that I asked Amazon Music to connect me to the band, The Many. In listening to more of their music, I found another song that deeply resonated with me, and I hope it will resonate with you, too.

 

"Oh you prisoners in your cells 

All you in private hells 

Kyrie eleison 

All you hungry and ignored 

Who thirst for something more 

Kyrie eleison 

 

You who feel so lost but are afraid of being found 

You who are in chains but are afraid to live unbound 

Kyrie eleison, kyrie eleison

 

For all us lovely needy people 

Living in this world that’s spinning 

Round and round and round 

Round and round and round 

For all us lovely broken people

Living in this world that’s spinning 

Round and round and round 

Round and round and round 

 

Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy 

Kyrie eleison, kyrie eleison 

 

Oh you children ripped and torn 

Battered, bruised and worn 

Kyrie eleison 

All who look hate in the face 

Locked in hate’s embrace 

Kyrie eleison 

 

You who’ve given up and can’t see anywhere but down 

You who’ve lost all hope and think it’s nowhere to be found 

Kyrie eleison, kyrie eleison

 

There is mercy enough, there is grace enough. 

There is love enough for all of us."

 

What music has been resonating with you lately? What music has given voice to your faith and doubt, your questions and fears, your confessions and longings? Amazon Music is great. But human connection is better, so I’d love to hear.    

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h_6gxdeJ_LY

Keep Writing

 

Last night, as I was leaving the Food Lion parking lot with my window rolled down,

I heard someone say, "Hey, Miss Deanna."

Surprised to hear my name and see a familiar face, I said, "Oh! Hey!”

The friendly voice then said, “Keep writing!"

I said I'd try.

Then I thought to myself, 

"We had less than twenty seconds to talk.

We hadn't seen each other in months.

She could have asked about my parents,

Or how I was doing,

Or told me she missed me. 

But she chose to tell me to keep writing.

That's pretty amazing."

And so, I keep writing.

Even when I don't have much to say.

 

Like today.

 

My mom sent me to the Hallmark store on Saturday.

I hadn't been in months because 

Going to the Hallmark store is dangerous business

If I want to live within my means.

It's especially dangerous when I need to spend a certain amount of money

To get something free.

Let's just say that I accomplished my goal. Plus some.

I got my free stuff. Plus some.

And I picked up some really good gifts along the way.

I'd like to say that they were Christmas gifts, 

But I couldn't wait to give them so I gave them that day.

All three friends were very excited about their gifts,

Especially the friend with whom I did “Disney In A Day” last year.

I hadn’t seen her smile so genuinely in quite some time.

It’s always good to see people smile,

Especially when you know that you care enough to send (give) the very best.

(Thanks, Hallmark). 

 

See. I don’t have much to say.

 

Standing on duty this morning, 

The PE teacher burst into song, 

"The stars at night shine big and bright,

*clap, clap, clap, clap*

Deep in the heart of Texas!"

All day, 

Underneath Native American music,

And music about pumpkins and turkeys,

I've been singing, 

"The stars at night shine big and bright,

*clap, clap, clap, clap*

Deep in the heart of Texas!"

 

And now you're singing it, too.

You're welcome. 

 

The End 😊.

 

-----

 

When is the last time someone said something that meant a lot to you?

 

What store must you avoid lest you spent your entire paycheck?

 

When is the last time you spent a lot of money just to get something free? Or that you bought a gift that you couldn’t wait to give so you gave it early?

 

What is the last earworm that you had stuck in your head?

 

Please share! I’d love to know.

 

“Deep in the heart of Texas!” *clap, clap, clap, clap*

 

😊

 

A Wedding And Some Memories

Last night, I had the privilege of officiating a wedding. 

It was a beautiful ceremony--a second chance at love for both the bride and groom and a joining not only of their hearts and hands but also of their families. 

I consider it an honor to have been asked to be part of such a special occasion. In preparing for the wedding, I took a stroll down memory lane. 

You see, the bride and I were fairly close when I worked at Johnsonville. She started out as a mom in the car rider line and turned into a star volunteer and substitute who often brought me coffee to propel me through the day! She was heavily involved in the PTO and ran the book fair for a few years. She even once helped me with Harnett Off-Broadway (my biggest performance of the year) and got on stage to perform with the children! 

But then life happened. She went through a rough patch. God called me away from Johnsonville. Time passed. We didn’t see each other for years. Yet Facebook kept us connected, a message on messenger booked the wedding, and e-mail made the wedding script possible… 

Life brings many people into our lives. While some stay for the long haul, most are actively around for only a season. For years, I didn’t understand this. I mourned and grieved the fading of every friendship. Yet now I understand that most friendships appear for a purpose, to fill a practical need, to challenge us to grow, to form us into a better person, and then to let us go. Thanks to modern technology, we can keep in touch with many of those friends, though. We can follow their lives from a distance and celebrate with them in joy while mourning with them in sorrow. The care and concern can be just as real as when they were active parts of our lives, but they don’t have to remain active parts of our lives for their impact to remain profound… 

…Because memories are powerful. They are mile-markers on our journeys. They are pegs on which we hang our hats. They are the fabric that make our lives’ collages. Memories are part of our present, and memories create the space for more memories when we open ourselves to them, because memories are relationships, and relationships are what life is about.

Last night’s bride and I shared many memories. Though we hadn’t been actively involved in each other’s lives for years, those memories led her to ask me to officiate her wedding which has now added more memories to our lives and friendship. 

So let your mind wander into memory today. If your memories lead you to someone with whom you’re connected via social media, consider sending her a message to let her know she’s on your mind. You never know what spark a message might start: a new purpose, a new need met, a new challenge to grow, a new way of being…or simply a smile as you remember that mile-marker, that peg, that fabric, or that moment when you met for the very first time…

My Car Is Sick, But...

I went to a five-year-old’s birthday party on Saturday afternoon, After helping run errands for a 75-year-old on Saturday morning, After dropping off a new cart at work. An anonymous donor gave me a new cart. I’ve totally nerded out. But I digress. After taking dinner home and eating with my parents on Saturday night, I got in my car to go to the grocery store. The car wouldn’t start. The same car that I had been driving all day, Suddenly wouldn’t start. I was sad. And I’m still sad. Because the car still won’t start, Even after checking and charging the battery. It will be towed later today. Out of the garage. To the car doc. Where it will be fixed. I hope. For not too much money. But here’s what’s good about all of this: I still have my 20-year-old, 336,000 mile car That took me to work today To roll around the new cart that I delivered on Saturday morning Before the car got sick. And when the car got sick, It got sick at home, In the garage, Leaving me at home with a grocery store dilemma Rather than in a parking lot after running errands or In a park after celebrating a five-year-old’s birthday, Wondering how I was going to get home, and Holding up people that I love and care for. Frustrating things happen. Inconvenient things happen. Bad things happen. Things don’t always go as we plan or we wish. I am not happy that my car is sick. And yet, There is still so much good. Always there is good. When we work to find it.

To Know That You're Loved

As I was leaving for work this morning, my dad poked his head in the car window and said, “Ain’t it great to know that you’re loved?” I said, “Yes. And I love you, too.” My dad fixes breakfast for me every morning. He has done this for years. Recently, though, he has taken his morning routine of helpfulness one step further. He now walks to the car with me to open my door because he noticed how my hands were always full with said breakfast and coffee and lunch. Once he opens the door, I give him a hug, tell him I love him, get in the car, and make my way to work. I know. I am lucky to receive such a huge morning blessing each day. This morning, after my dad poked his head in the window and said what he said, I spent the entire drive to school thinking about his statement (trying to ignore his bad grammar, which, is really atypical): “Ain’t it great to know that you’re loved?” It is. And I know that I’m loved in so many different ways. Just this week, for instance, I’ve known love by… A friend helping me prepare a staff gift even though she had a ton of work to do herself. Another friend writing to ask how I’m doing even though she is suffering at home with Covid. Yet another friend asking me to her 5-year-old’s birthday party and allowing me to be an active part of her children’s lives. A mom who cooks supper each night and sits with me while I watch TV. A parent who lights up when she sees me in the car rider line. A teacher helping me solve technological issues in her classroom. A thank you note arriving in the mail. And research done on my behalf to find the perfect cup-holder for my cart. Friends: Ain’t it great to know that you’re loved? If you are reading this, you are loved, too. Sometimes, the ways aren’t as obvious as some of the ways I have known love this week. But the ways are almost always there if you will but take the time to recognize them. What are some ways you have been loved this week? Oh…And I didn’t even mention the beauty of God’s creation, the crisp autumn air, the crunch of pinecones under foot, the smell of campfires and pinestraw and falling leaves…

Alone vs. Social

When I was in college, I never snacked on the snacks in my room. Instead, I snacked on the snacks in a friend’s room—not because I was too cheap to buy them for myself—but because, I realized, I’m a social snacker. To a certain extent, I’m still the same way. I don’t snack a lot at home, but if you put me with a group of people and make snacks available, then I can snack with the best of them. I’m coming to realize that the same is true with fire. I love contained fire. I have a fire pit. I have wood. I’ve learned how to start fire. There is no reason that I can’t build a fire for myself on a clear summer or crisp fall night. Yet I don’t. But put me in front of a contained fire with friends or family members, and I’m about as happy as I can be. In fact, one of my friends commented the other night, “We’re seeing Deanna in her happy place right now.” I was standing by the fire at her house, fire stick in hand, listening to the sound of her little girls’ laughter. There are some things that we must do alone—think of therapy or self-care. There are some things that we choose to do alone—think of reading a book. There are some things that we are forced to do alone—think of taking a test. And that’s okay. There are times when alone is required or needed. But there are some things that are just plain better with people—think of going to the theatre. There are some things that we choose to do only with other people—think of parties. There are some things we are forced to do with other people—think of group projects. And that’s okay, too. There are times with other people are required or needed. Life must be a balance. We must have our introverted and extraverted moments. We must know when alone vs. together is best. And we must embrace each of those times for what they are… Ultimately, I’m glad that I’m a social snacker vs. a solo snacker. And I’m glad that I’m a social contained firer vs. a solo contained firer. Alone, both could be dangerous. What about you? What are your alone go-to’s vs. your social go-to’s? And when is the last time you had a social gathering that made you smile? And by the way…that friend who declared me in my happy place the other night is the same friend from whose room I snacked in college. Long-lasting friendships are beautiful things. Take a few moments to celebrate your long-lasting friendships now. You never know when a word from you will make all the difference in the world.

On Fixing My Hem Line

On Saturday, I had the privilege of playing my guitar at a wedding. The bride wanted to surprise her groom with a special song during the ceremony, so she asked me to accompany the man who would be singing. The song we performed was the song to which the bride walked down the aisle. The groom had no idea that she wasn’t going to enter to “Here Comes The Bride.” It was a really neat surprise. But back up a few hours, though, and you will find me at home with a wardrobe malfunction. The hem had fallen out of one leg of my black dress pants. I debated leaving it as it was, figuring that no one would be paying attention to the hem of my pants. After all, I had on a black shirt, black pants, black socks, and black shoes—was the hem line even that noticeable? In the end, I decided to ask my mom if she had any stick pins. I figured I could pin the hem as a temporary fix. Here’s where my mom stepped in and did what moms tend to do. Not finding any stick pins or safety pins, she went into her closet and pulled out her sewing kit. The next thing I knew, she was telling me to sit down on the couch and put my foot on her knee. She then proceeded to stitch a “quick fix” hem line into my pants. Suddenly, I felt and looked as good as new. I felt really honored to have been asked to be part of my friend’s wedding for such a special surprise. But I felt equally as honored to have walked into the wedding looking my best because of my mom’s simple gift. Love is demonstrated to us in many different ways--big and small--surprise songs and emergency hems. When is the last time someone demonstrated his/her love to you through a simple act of service or an invaluable gift? Take a moment to answer that question now...and be grateful. I know I am.

Truth Be Told

If you haven’t heard this song, or even if you have, then take a few minutes to listen to it now—or at least read its words. It’s “Truth Be Told,” by Matthew West. I think that most of us walk around hearing lies—believing that we’re supposed to have it all together— that we must always be strong—that everybody’s life is perfect except for ours—that being broken is not okay. Even when we know that we’re listening to lies, it’s easy to believe them…and then we end up carrying such huge emotional weights that we feel burdened to the point of exhaustion—every. single. day. The truth is that being honest in a safe place—confessing reality—allowing light to shine on darkness—giving ourselves the time and space to be hurt, angry, sorry, mournful, upset, tired—letting God do God’s work of redemption, even when it’s not immediate—is the only way to “fix it.” Dear friends: I don’t know what lies you’re hearing—what weights your carrying—but I know that I will help you carry them if you trust me enough to help you hold them. I cannot fix you. I cannot guarantee a quick solution to your exhaustion. But I can be a safe place for you if you feel that you have no other place to go. All you have to do is write me, or catch me in the hallway, and I will listen to you and pray for light to begin shining on your darkness. Every day on the morning announcements, my principal ends the announcements by saying “We’re all in this together.” Let’s be in this together, friends. Let’s be those safe spaces where truth-telling is possible. Let’s be God’s hands and heart of Love and redemption in this broken, hurting world…Every. Single. Day. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j4wYkS8Z3Io ------ Lie number one: You're supposed to have it all together And when they ask how you're doin', just smile and tell them, "Never better" Lie number two: Everybody's life is perfect except yours So keep your messes and your wounds and your secrets safe with you behind closed doors But truth be told The truth is rarely told, no... I say, "I'm fine, yeah, I'm fine, oh, I'm fine, hey, I'm fine" But I'm not, I'm broken And when it's out of control I say it's under control But it's not and You know it I don't know why it's so hard to admit it When bein' honest is the only way to fix it There's no failure, no fall There's no sin You don't already know So let the truth be told There's a sign on the door, says, "Come as you are" but I doubt it 'Cause if we lived like that was true, every Sunday mornin' pew would be crowded But didn't You say church should look more like a hospital? A safe place for the sick, the sinner and the scarred, and the prodigals, like me But truth be told, the truth is rarely told Oh, am I the only one who says... "I'm fine, yeah, I'm fine, oh, I'm fine, hey, I'm fine" But I'm not, I'm broken And when it's out of control I say it's under control But it's not and You know it I don't know why it's so hard to admit it When bein' honest is the only way to fix it There's no failure, no fall There's no sin You don't already know So let the truth be told Can I really stand here unashamed Knowin' that Your love for me won't change? Oh God, if that's really true Then let the truth be told

Naming Grace

We have a difficult parent in the car rider line. She's been rude to a few of us a few different times and she's unsafely tried to go around traffic when she hasn't wanted to wait to leave. I was complaining about this to a friend, explaining how the mom's children are somewhat difficult, too, when my friend casually responded, "She probably has a mood disorder." I suddenly felt bad for complaining about the parent and not extending her more grace. I know that I know that I know that there is almost always more than meets the eye. When I told Joe the Counselor about all of this, he listened attentively. He appreciated my friend's gentle reminder and smiled at my knowing. But he also said, "You know. Sometimes it's nice just to be able call a person a name and be okay with it." I smiled. Joe is right. But my friend's reminder was right, too. It's good to name our feelings in safe spaces. It's good to be honest about the responses that other's behaviors invoke. Stuffing everything inside for too long can slowly eat away at the core. But it's also good to be gracious to people and to imagine life from a viewpoint not our own. I understand life from the viewpoint of a teacher during the pandemic. But I don't understand life from the viewpoint of a parent during the pandemic--especially not the parent of difficult children. I understand life from the viewpoint of a person living with generalized anxiety disorder. But I don't understand life from the viewpoint of someone living with bi-polar disorder, or borderline personality disorder, or major depressive disorder, or any number of other mood disorders. So I should be gracious. And kind. Even when it's hard. But not when it isn't safe. And even then, I can be firm without being rude... I saw our difficult parent in the car rider line this morning. At first, I cringed when she rolled to my station. Inwardly, I was worried that she'd fuss at me. But I simply smiled and said, "Good morning," just as I do to everyone. I silently wished her well and said a little prayer for her. Then she rolled away without incident. And I smiled.

And I Laughed

I ran into the wall with my cart last week. Seriously. I was the only person in the hallway. I wasn’t trying to avoid anything. I had a straight-shot to my Kindergarten classroom. And yet, my front-wheel-steering cart steered itself right into the wall. I looked around to see if anyone had seen this amazingly stupid accomplishment. Then I shook my head and laughed 😊… Fifteen years ago this summer, I went to a Centering Prayer workshop. I didn’t know it at the time, but that workshop would become my beginning in mindfulness practice—a practice that seeks to keep the mind, heart, soul, body, and spirit focused on the realities of right now rather than the made-up-stories of “what-if.” That summer, and in the months and years to follow, I spent a lot of time judging myself for not getting the practice of centering prayer right. As I tried to center my mind and focus on God’s present reality, I caught my mind wandering to the past or future—thoughts that were far from Godly entering my consciousness—noise filling what was supposed to be silence—and I got frustrated. I deemed myself a failure and stopped the practice session in frustration. Yet still I tried…and tried…and tried…until I finally learned that it’s not about getting it right or wrong—it’s not about judging—it’s about noticing—and being present. In time, my practice has shifted from solely specific times of centering prayer to daily ways of living. I pray throughout the day every day. I say, “Dear God…” so many times a day that I sometimes wonder if God would like to forget God’s name! But now I say, “Dear God…” and share whatever is on my mind and heart. When I start to wander away into made-up-stories of “what-if,” I ask God to help me focus on this moment—what I can feel, see, hear, taste, touch, experience, control, and handle in this moment—and then I try to show up in the moment—even when it’s hard. I try to breathe when I need to reset. I try to welcome the anxious feelings with grace when I am worried. I try to feel the tension in my body and literally shake it off when I’m stressed. I try to remain present right now and remember, “Not me. Not mine,” when I find myself stuck and overburdened by the weights of this world. There is only so much that I can do to fix a broken humanity. I pray for God to show me what I CAN do rather than allowing evil to show me everything I can’t… Almost every teacher I know would quit right now if he/she could. Tension and stress are at an all-time high while respect, morale, and feelings of effectiveness are at an all-time low. For me, cart-life is tough. I feel all of the tension and stress as I roll throughout the building. I absorb the energy of the system that I cannot control. It’s hard. It hurts. It’s draining. And there doesn’t seem to be an end in sight. Yet I ran into the wall with my cart the other day. And I laughed. In that moment, rushing from one classroom to another, wondering if my technology was going to work and if my lesson was going to engage my students, I laughed. I didn’t judge myself for wrongfully running into the wall. Instead, I showed up and was present for a funny moment. And that one moment propelled me to the next…and the next…and the next… Let’s be mindful people, friends. Not because it is trendy. Or because it is easy. Or because we think it will relieve all of our stress. But because it reminds us to show up to life and notice it—in all of its joys and sorrows—and it allows us to celebrate the small victories of running into walls with carts in the midst of palpable stress…and laughing. Amen? And amen.

Grasshoppers

A grasshopper got stuck in my car on Tuesday. At first, I was scared by a bug frantically jumping around the car while I drove. Then I moved from scared to sad--a bug frantically jumping around the car while I drove, trying so hard to get out, but failing with every thud on the windshield. When I stopped, I tried to guide the grasshopper out of the car, but I couldn't get him to understand that he needed to go toward the open window instead of the closed windshield. So I left my windows open all night, thinking that he'd eventually figure it out. He didn't. The grasshopper scared me again yesterday morning when he started frantically jumping around the car while I drove. Trying but failing again to guide him out of the car and still feeling sad for his diligent but misguided attempts at freedom, I decided to leave my windows open during the day yesterday, hoping that he'd eventually figure things out. He did! The grasshopper was gone when I got in the car to go home yesterday afternoon!... Sometimes, I think we're all just a bunch of grasshoppers--hopping around in search of freedom. Sometimes, we find ourselves in places we don't want to be, stuck. Sometimes, we try the same damaging escape over and over again, not realizing that our attempts are futile. Sometimes, we don't realize we need help. Sometimes, we refuse to follow the help that's given. Sometimes, we have to figure things out on our own. And sometimes, just sometimes, when we figure things out, we realize that we are not in the place where we started and that, come what may, we must move forward from there... Here's to hopping, my friends--out open windows and into the great unknown.

Always Expecting Something

Yesterday, my mom and dad returned home from a five-day beach get-away. While gone, they were able to see the beauty of God’s creation, celebrate long-time friendships, and enjoy the company of my sister’s family. Almost as soon as he walked in the door, though, my dad was ready to leave again to go to the post office. He needed to check the mail. It didn’t matter that he had a stack of mail from the street box already waiting. He almost always does this. It’s as if someone is going to take the mail out of the box if he doesn’t remove it immediately. I finally said to him, “Are you expecting something or something?” Without missing a beat, he said, “Yes. I’m always expecting something. I just don’t know what it is.” He’s always expecting something. He just doesn’t know what it is. What a way to live life! Always expecting to find something good, Always looking out for it as if it has arrived, Always hoping for its existence, Whether it’s there or not. He knows that the PO Box is full of mostly junk. He knows that the non-junk is usually bills. And still he hopes. Still he waits. For that one card, That one check, That one piece of something good. I went to check the mail for my dad. It was mostly bills and flyers. But sure enough, there was one card. And he got it. And then he started hoping for the good of tomorrow. Let’s keep hoping, friends. There is good to come. Better yet. Let’s be that good for one another…

Kids

I was sharing a song from 1928. I emphasized how long ago that was— Almost 100 years! I didn’t put the clip on full screen because there wasn’t anything special to watch. The kids could see the video information. “That was posted in 2014! Wow! That’s a long time ago!” I read in the chat box. “I was 2. OMG.” I laughed. Kids have little to no concept of time. I was standing on car duty, Taking temperatures and asking about Covid symptoms, But not opening car doors. I didn’t tend her car because I was with someone else, But I heard her as she exclaimed: “Hi, everyone! I’mmmmm Mia!” I saw her, too—arms opening in the air with a confident flourish, like Ta-da! I’m here! I laughed. Kids have little to no concept of modesty or shame. Kids are not born stressed out with no time. Kids are not made to hate and commit crimes. Kids learn what we teach them, whether good or bad. Kids learn what they are shown, whether happy or sad. I was talking to a student this morning, Trying to get her to put her head through the rolled-down window Because I can’t reach into cars. She didn’t respond. She looked off in the distance. “She’s got special needs,” I thought. But I followed as she happily went with the crowd All the way to her room. I smiled. Kids have little to no problem with resilience and trust. May we be worthy of their trust, Their boldness, And their innocence. Always. Amen.

Big Black Truck and Little White Dog

On Saturday, I lay in my hammock Fretting about the uncertainties of students returning to school. I knew I shouldn’t be worrying. Because worrying would do no good for anyone. Yet still I lay there worrying because worrying gave me some sort of control. Then I saw the cutest sight: A big black truck trailed by a little white dog. My dad was driving to the dump pile At the back of the yard, Making stops along the way to pick up pinecones and yardwork tools. Where the truck went, Bullet faithfully followed. Bullet does this around the house, too— Follows my dad wherever he goes. But I’d never seen him follow the truck. And the contrast between big and small, Black and white, working just fine and struggling with his back left hip, Was just so very poignant that for a few moments I stopped worrying. For a few moments, I lay in my hammock celebrating joy—and unconditional love. For a few moments, Everything in the world was right.

Let Your Light Shine

“Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.” --Ian Maclaren Lost in the darkness My soul tosses about: Help me! I’m drowning! I can’t see To find my way out. Lost in the wilderness My heart cries in pain: Save me! I’m perishing! I can’t move— I’m paralyzed again. Just a pinprick of light; Just a small ray of hope. That’s all I need— Then I can cope. Found in the dark wilderness My whole being shouts: You saved me From dying! I can see— You led me out. ------ I think that most of us are searching for Light in this dark work. Let’s be Light and Love to one another, friends. Even if a pinprick is all we can muster.

Words Create

I’m a scratched-up record, Worn and old, Stuck on the same refrain: Words matter. Words have power. Words create. The middle of second grade, Teaching along, “I want to leave now,” I read. “I want to leave, too!” I read in response. Words hit like a punch in the gut, A direct hit to my always present insecurities. “Cool!” I read in response to the lesson. “This is neat!” I continue to read. “I’ve seen that before!” “WOW!” And yet… “I want to leave now,” is all I can hear. “They’re bored,” I think. “I’m not a good teacher,” I fear. “All I do is bore the children,” I worry. “They don’t want to be here,” I conclude. Damn those words. They mattered. And not in a good way. I’m a scratched-up record, Worn and old, Stuck on the same refrain: Words matter. Words have power. Words create. May we use our words to Create things for good. Please. I implore you. Because Words matter. Words have power. Words create…

Our Response Matters

I introduced “Dem Bones” to my 3rd graders today. Most of the recordings have skeletons attached to them because, well, the song is about bones. One of my students shared in the chat box that she is afraid of skeletons. Another student tried to comfort her and encourage her not to be scared. Another student said, “Why are you so scared? You’re literally in the 3rd grade.” At that point, the original student, who had bravely faced her fear of skeletons for the entire lesson, left the Meet… When someone expresses a thought or opinion—especially a thought or opinion that leaves him/her vulnerable—we have a choice as to how we respond. We can not respond—just take in the information and listen—because sometimes people just need to speak and be heard. We can try to comfort and encourage—with distractions or advice—because sometimes people need an outside voice to help push them through. Or we can be totally insensitive and say exactly what we’re feeling—because we have that “right”—yet almost at no time does anyone desire to speak and be disregarded as dumb… In a follow-up e-mail with the student who is afraid of skeletons, I read as she confessed that she didn’t like the person who told her she shouldn’t be scared because she was in the 3rd grade. I don’t blame her. I didn’t like that student so much in that moment either… In a time of heighted division and unrest, people sometimes need to express their thoughts and opinions. We sometimes need to work things out outside our heads. May we be persons who listen and respond with care, compassion, wisdom, and discernment…or may we not respond at all. Because we don’t need more people getting hurt and liking people less. There is already too much of that…

Joy

Maybe it exists through everything. Maybe it’s there Like the air we breathe, Unseen, But very real, Life-giving and life-sustaining, Waiting for us to recognize it and Give thanks. Maybe we don’t have to look so hard to find it. Maybe it’s right in front of us, Like the next second on the clock, Unnoticed, But very real, Life-supporting and life-expecting, Waiting for us to recognize it and Give thanks. Maybe we simply need to receive it Because maybe it’s been our gift Since the dawn of creation. And maybe we need also to join it Because maybe it’s best seen When we embody it with skin. So maybe it exists through everything. And maybe we don’t have to look so hard to find it. Because maybe God is Love and Maybe Love is Joy and Maybe both are eternal- -Ly waiting for us to Recognize them, Receive them, Join them, and Give thanks.

Everything

I’ve been singing it since the radio played it yesterday morning: “What's love got to do, got to do with it What's love but a second hand emotion What's love got to do, got to do with it Who needs a heart when a heart can be broken” And every time I’ve gotten to the end of the chorus, I’ve thought to myself: Everything. Love have everything to do with it. I know. Tina is trying to convince herself that what she’s feeling Isn’t love. After all, “Who needs a heart, When a heart can be broken?” Love is risky. It believes and hopes and tries and Hurts. But Love is also The driving force For all of the good in this world. Love IS risky. It believes and hopes and tries and Heals. So what’s Love got to do, got to do with it? Everything, friends. Everything.

Have A Great Day

At the beginning of August, one of my real-life friends from camp friended me on Facebook. Almost every day since we’ve reconnected, this friend has written to say, “Hope you have a great day.” I write her back and say, “You too.” Then she writes me back with a thumbs up. It’s only been six weeks, but it’s come to be a ritual that I look forward to each day. Here is this friend that I haven’t talked to in almost twenty years suddenly letting me know that she’s thinking of me and wishing me well! What’s more, she’s an assistant in the public schools who starts her days SUPER early and is very often overlooked and underappreciated for her work. It would be easy for her to go about her days and not write, yet she does. And I have a feeling I’m not the only person she writes. Friends: May we be a people of positive, encouraging structures and routines, And may we use our presence in each other’s lives to build up rather than destroy. I know I sound like a broken record, but I believe it so much: Words have power. Even simple words such as, “Hope you have a great day.” Thank you, Amanda, for inspiring me and making a simple yet profound difference in my life. The world needs more people like you.

And So I Wear The Earrings

A lot of my friends are carrying very heavy burdens right now. Sudden loss, Lingering grief, Anxious stress, Messy divorce, Unprecedented loneliness, Rapid change. In more cases than not, I don’t know what to do to help. In reality, There’s not much I CAN do to help. I cannot take away burdens, Nor is it my job. And so I listen when words start to flow, And I sit silently when they do not. I send thinking of you texts ever so often, And I offer prayers of light, love, and strength. And I wear the earrings that one of my friends gave me As a sign of solidarity. It doesn’t seem like much, But it’s what I can do. And it’s what you can do, too, friends. It’s one small thing at a time that changes a world…

Grapes from South America

He said: “As we sit down at the table, We have grapes from South America, And celery and carrots and cucumbers from some somewhere, And chicken that hatched from an egg that someone had to make sure hatched and grew to maturity, And potato salad from potatoes that had to be grown and harvested, And biscuits from wheat…” I thought: Grapes from South America? What in the world is he talking about? I thought he was going to say the blessing. He continued, as if reading my mind: “I just think it’s important that we don’t take for granted all of the work that had to occur to get our meal onto the table— All of the people who labored to make this possible— People we will never know and see.” I thought: Oh. Yes. Labor Day. It’s Labor Day Weekend. We should be grateful. He prayed: “Dear God, Thank you for this food. Amen.” I haven’t looked at anything since that prayer And not thought of all of the hands, Mostly unknown, Forever anonymous, That went into growing, harvesting, designing, making, and/or producing it. May we be a grateful people today, For all things great and small, For the hands and lives that make our lives possible, For the labors that keep the world turning, Today and every day. Amen.

Together

“…Because sometimes life is just a little less difficult when we know we’re not doing it alone.” I have two 4th students who like to stay after class. They don’t chat in the chat box. They don’t really talk. They just sit with each other, Cameras off, Doing their homework, Together. Sometimes, friends, we just need someone to sit with us. Not chatting in a chat box. Not using words at all. Just sitting with one another, Cameras off, phones down, Doing life, Together.

There Was Jesus

I have this image in my mind: A mom and dad are fighting. The dad is using his fists as weapons and His words as swords; The mom is cowering in Fear; The children are behind the couch, Hiding. They are curled into balls, Hoping not to be seen— Afraid… When Jesus comes to Sit beside them, Hold them, and Comfort them in A storm of deep rage. Even there, Especially there, In the darkest of times, There was Jesus. I wish I understood why Jesus doesn’t stop the storms of deep rage all together. I wish I understood why evil is so often allowed to prosper. I wish I understood why darkness so often prevails. And yet I don’t. All I know is that somehow— In the midst of it all— There is Jesus. Always. Somehow. There is Jesus. ----- “There Was Jesus” by Zach Williams and Dolly Parton *listen to their version—it’s really awesome* Every time I try to make it on my own Every time I try to stand, I start to fall And all those lonely roads that I have traveled on There was Jesus When the life I built came crashing to the ground When the friends I had were nowhere to be found I couldn't see it then but I can see it now There was Jesus In the waiting, in the searching In the healing, in the hurting Like a blessing buried in the broken pieces Every minute, every moment Where I've been or where I'm going Even when I didn't know it Or couldn't see it There was Jesus For this man who needs amazing kind of grace For forgiveness and a price I couldn't pay I'm not perfect so I thank God every day There was Jesus There was Jesus In the waiting, in the searching In the healing, in the hurting Like a blessing buried in the broken pieces Every minute, every moment Where I've been or where I'm going Even when I didn't know it Or couldn't see it There was Jesus On the mountains In the valleys There was Jesus In the shadows Of the alleys There was Jesus In the fire, in the flood There was Jesus Always is and always was, oh No, I never walk alone Never walk alone You're always there In the waiting, in the searching In the healing, in the hurting Like a blessing buried in the broken pieces Every minute, every moment Where I've been or where I'm going Even when I didn't know it Or couldn't see it There was Jesus There was Jesus There was Jesus There was Jesus

The A-Z Song

Why, yes, I did catch myself mindlessly singing “The ABC Song” on my way home from school today. It’s an occupational hazard—always having a child-sized ear worm in your head. I’ve been singing the ABC’s with my Kindergarteners this week. I like to start with something they know—something familiar to make them feel at ease. But I also introduce them to a slightly different version of the ABC’s—one that comes from a Sesame Street clip where the letter Z is ready to quit the alphabet because he feels left out of “The ABC Song.” Tyra Banks is the host of the clip. She changes the song to “The A-Z Song” and simply makes the ending say, “Now I know from A to Z” instead of “Now I know my ABC’s.” That’s it. Nothing else changes. But the letter Z loves the new song…even though it’s practically the same thing. If you think about it, the letter Z has a point. “The ABC Song” includes all 26 letters of the alphabet, but the three at the beginning seem to get all the credit. Saying A TO Z, though, indicates that there is more than A and Z—that they aren’t the only two letters of the alphabet—but that they are the beginning and the end, the bookends that hold it together. In a time when language is easily accessible and words are seen as toys but then used as weapons; in a time when we must try not to say something politically incorrect; in a time when there is such sharp division that everything is already politically incorrect…words are more important than ever. How we phrase things, right down to the titles of our songs, matters. I suppose it can be argued that the letter Z was being arrogant and that changing the song to include him instead of B and C was being a bit letter-ist. I suppose it can be argued that changing tradition because the letter Z was offended was ridiculous—after all, he WAS represented in the song. There will always be arguments for both sides of an issue. I just hope that my words and my arguments will always land on the side of Christ, for in Christ we are inclusively One, and through Christ, we find the pathways to love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Now I know from A TO Z…next time, won’t you sing with me?

The Greenwood Song

A couple of years ago, on the first day of Kindergarten, my friend Leslie and I wrote a spontaneous song. She played a chord progression on her ukulele. I sang whatever words came to mind with whatever tune came to mind. Before we knew it, the Kindergarteners were asking us to sing the song again! So we did…probably changing it a little along the way. That weekend, I decided to formalize the song and make it into an official school song. I solidified the chords, the words, and the tune. I wrote down the lyrics and made sure to include the school mission statement. I’ve occasionally sung it to myself over the years. But that’s about it. I’ve never done anything with it…until this year. For the past week, I’ve been teaching “The Greenwood Song” to my students. So far, only 11 classes have learned it, but in a few weeks, everyone in the school will have heard and hopefully learned “The Greenwood Song.” Because of lag time and such, my students mostly stay muted during our singing time. As a result, I’d not actually heard any of the kids actually singing the song…until today. During one of my classes this morning, after we had transitioned to a different part of the lesson, one of my students accidently unmuted himself and I heard him humming the tune of “The Greenwood Song.” His humming warmed my heart. And it made me smile. The tune had gotten stuck in his head, too. Just like it’s been stuck in mine. -------- What tune has been stuck in your head, friends? What’s been your ear worm? I’d love to hear!