Dirty Feet, Applesauce, and Plastic Lids

My feet are filthy. Bullet took me on an unplanned walk around the neighborhood, during which I was barefooted and dodging both rocks and dog poop. Bullet is an old-man dog who has become best friends with a younger woman dog, Millie, who is twice his size. Don’t worry. They won’t be making little Bullet-Millie puppies. They are just buddies who pal around the neighborhood—which is fine—except that Millie doesn’t have very good road sense and has been hit by cars twice and is therefore a bad example for Bullet who would not survive if hit by a car. And so I worry about their friendship walks while people are returning from work and I therefore go with them…never ceasing to be amazed at the fact that no matter how tired Bullet is, he always “bullets” home as fast as he can so that he can see my dad.

More than anything in this world, Bullet wants to spend time with my dad…even if it’s just to give him a quick love lick on his hand.

…

Yesterday, my sister-in-law, a first grade teacher, posted the following story:

A couple of months back many of you helped out a family I know. Today was the youngest one's birthday. He wanted everyone [in the class] to get a treat of apple sauce, and he brought in all that he had. I peeked in his cubby and saw three little cups of applesauce. Made me cry. I ran out during my lunch break to get some more. His little joyful spirit has truly touched my soul this year.

I shared this event with my choir last night and I cried. I shared this event with some of my coworkers today and I cried.

I am reminded of the Bible story of the boy who gave his loaves and fishes to feed the five thousand. I am reminded of the widow who gave all that she had at the temple. I am reminded of those in the early church who gave all they had to their growing community of faith. I am reminded that one person’s humble sacrifice can multiply, inspire, and bless more people than they ever thought possible.

…

One of my choir members collects plastic lids to raise money for children with cancer. I don’t know where she takes the lids or how exactly it works, but I know she takes all kinds of plastic lids that otherwise would end up filling a landfill and helps turn them into something positive. She said, “There’s not a lot that I can do to help people. But I can do this.”

…

Devotion to those you adore.
Sacrifice for those for whom you are grateful.
Service for the people and organizations for whom you care.
Love. Genuine love.
It’s everywhere,
Surrounding us,
Inspiring us,
Encouraging us,
Making us whole.
Thanks be to God.
Who is love.
Amen.

Old School CD Player

One of my most vivid memories from Thursday Night Bowing League in SC was Boss laughing at me when I pulled out my old school CD player to change my Harry Potter CD. I had no shame, though. I was at a crucial moment in the story and I wanted to know what was going to happen, so I bowled and listened—and imagined the scene of Harry and Dumbledore retrieving a horcrux.

I busted out my old school CD player again today. I was listening to another of JK Rowling’s books and wanted to finish it while cleaning, so I did. I put the player in my pocket—just as I had done that night while bowling—and listened away. Thankfully, my shorts have big pockets.

My jacket had big pockets, too, when I stuffed it with my old school CD player during the Big Snow of 2000. I distinctly remember going out into the snow, all bundled up, listening to my new worship CD’s, walking beside a happy Miss Dog, trying not to resent the fact that we’d have to make up snow days later in the year.

One of the songs that I listened to during those days of walking with Miss Dog was “Above All.”

Tonight, as my praise team boys and I prepared for Sunday morning’s worship, we found ourselves doing some old school favorites: “Open The Eyes of My Heart,” “Here I Am To Worship,” “Trading My Sorrows,” and, yes, “Above All.” We sang:

Above all powers, above all kings, above all nature, and all created things.
Above all wisdom, and all the ways of man, You were there before the world began

Above all kingdoms, above all thrones, above all wonders the world has ever known
Above all wealth and treasures of the earth, there's no way to measure what You're worth

Crucified, laid behind a stone, You lived to die, rejected and alone
Like a rose trampled on the ground, You took the fall and thought of me
Above all

And memories flooded my mind…of walks and books and bowling and dogs…and a theology that has developed over many years but that has, in some ways, stayed the same. I believe now, as I did then, that Jesus lived and died for love. Above all, it was love. But not for me alone. For all the world and all of humanity. Jesus lived and died for love. And so should we…

Kind of like Bullet, who lives his life devoted to us in love. Most recently, Bullet has decided to demonstrate his love by taking me on walks every time I come home and every night around nine. This demonstration of love—the desire to spend quality time with me—began during this year’s snow storms, when I had to go walk with him so that he would pee.

Through walks and books and bowling and dogs. Through living and dying and resting and remembering. Through old school CD players and new school sound equipment. There is love. Above all. There is love.

Be It Gash or Gold

As I stumbled around the kitchen waiting for my coffee to brew this morning, my dad read aloud the following excerpt from his morning devotion:

Exhaust the little moment, soon it dies
And be it gash or gold, it will never come
Again in this identical guise

Exhaust the little moment--
Stay fully present while you:
• hear three people say, “You should write a book;”
• walk alongside an overly excited dog as he cavorts around the neighborhood;
• learn the word cavort while doing the morning announcements;
• hear a coworker rejoice when you say, “I’m planning to come back next year;”
• watch students practically run into school because they are so excited to be there;.
• hear yourself say, “Breathe. You don’t have to raise your voice. Raising your voice will do no good. It’s what they expect. Don’t do what they expect,” and then continue with class without raising your voice…even though you have this conversation with yourself at least ten times within a forty minute class period;
• have a truly joyful, genuine, and loving child feed you a piece of her favorite popcorn;
• hear the fears of someone awaiting diagnosis;
• watch a normally distant student light up as she plays the piano;
• hear a friend’s exhaustion during a week of crisis;
• fall asleep pondering how you can be a better teacher;
• clean up behind your coworkers;
• hear a student say, “Thank you for teaching me to learn.”
Be it gash or gold—
And there are a lot of gashes during the final month of school—
Exhaust the little moment—
Stay fully present—
Because this moment,
This day,
This time in life,
Be it good, bad, ugly, or beautiful
Will never come again.

Dear God, let me honor these days with gladness in my heart. Increase the joy within me and the gratitude I feel for life. Help me to see each moment as a gift and each experience as an opportunity to grow. Help me to see that I have all that I need and to live for Love and Love alone. Amen.

An Open Letter to the Overworked and Underappreciated

Dear Friend:

I've been thinking about you today,
And I’ve realized something:
You are overworked and under-appreciated.

No wonder you’re considering jumping ship.

While I cannot presume to know where God is leading your life,
I can tell you this:
You are making a difference where you are.

You probably cannot see it.
But you are doing a lot of things right.
If nothing else, you are
showing up and
giving your best, and
setting an example of
steady courage and grace.

You are
intelligent and wise,
passionate and hardworking,
detailed and flexible.

You are a leader.

We need strong leaders.

Yet leadership takes time.

And leaders often must work through
silent strength
determination
gritted teeth and
prayer.

You work through those things.

Yet you are exhausted.
Overworked.
Under-appreciated.
And in those conditions, it's difficult to see anything clearly.

I pray you give yourself time.

I pray you do something life-giving for you.

I pray you feed your soul so that
Light and truth can filter in and
Darkness and lies can fade away
And God’s presence and peace can be
abundantly clear.

Yes. You are overworked.
Yes. You are under-appreciated.
But I appreciate you.
And I hope that, somehow, today
That is enough.

--------

What makes you feel appreciated?
At work?
At home?
At church?
At your volunteer post?
What do you need to feel appreciated right now?
Realistic or not?
Please answer.
I genuinely want to know.
Not because I’m going to try to fix everything.
I’m not.
(At least not right now.)
I’m just curious to know what needs to happen to change the tide.

That Statement Again

A few years ago, my friend Kay and I started sending each other statements seen on church signs around North and South Carolina. What started as a mission to find funny sentiments to decorate her apartment has become an enduring purpose of communication. We may go months without writing but then one of us will find something worthy of sharing…and then we are connected again. That happened today, actually, after I rode by a sign that said: No bunny loves you like Jesus. Find us on Facebook. I laughed aloud. Then I wrote Kay. And we both agreed that the sign was a little late for Easter and that it was an interesting marketing strategy!

Because of this long-enduring connection with Kay, I find myself reading church signs every time I can. While there are a lot of signs that could stand improvement, there are some that are really good. I’ve found one sign on my way to and from work to be particularly encouraging this year. For instance, at the beginning of the year, when I wasn’t certain that I would adjust to being back in the classroom, I’d drive by and read, “You can make it.” It never failed. When I read those four simple words, I felt them making their way into my heart. God was speaking to me. And I knew that I would make it.

So I suppose that I shouldn’t be surprised that the church sign in mention gave me goose bumps yesterday. After a frustrating Monday and Tuesday, and memories of a really rotten Wednesday last week, I wasn’t overly thrilled about going to work. Yet as I drove that familiar road to school and passed that familiar sign, I found myself reading, “Pray grace over your situation,” and I literally chuckled to myself because I had been wondering how I was going to let go of the aggravation I’d been feeling all week and there was the church sign answering my wonderings. Pray grace over the situation, Deaton. Remember: “I love youregardless of how well you’re performing.”

Ah.

There’s that statement again.

“I love you regardless of how well you’re performing.”

Or more specifically this week: I love YOU, as a person, because you ARE a person, and there IS something good in you, even if I cannot find it right now BECAUSE of your performance which is basically not a performance at all and I don’t understand how you can not do your job and play the martyr and take and take and take. Yet. I (must) love YOU because you are a PERSON. And I am a person, too. And we are all worthy of love simply because we are people.

Love. Joy. Peace. Patience. Kindness. Goodness. Faithfulness. Gentleness. Self-control.
Pray for your enemies and love those who persecute you.
Do not become weary in doing for at the right time you will reap a harvest if you do not give up.
I love you regardless of how well you’re performing.
Pray grace over your situation.

And then somehow,
With time and with breath,
Frustration will begin to fade away,
Light will begin to filter in, and
People will be seen as people...
Thanks be to God,
(and church signs)
Amen.

When Patience And Grace Fly Out The Window

I try to be a patient and grace-filled person. Really. I do. And for the most part, having become a believer of compassion as shared humanity, I do a pretty good job with it. I try to “be kind, for each of us is fighting a great battle.” I try to breathe in when I feel frustrated and breathe out the calm that I desire. I try to remain mindful of the fact that I am not the only person in the world feeling what I am feeling (nor will I ever be), and I try to breathe out peace for other persons feeling frustration, stress, fear, hurt, confusion, betrayal, loss, or whatever the emotion may be. I even try to do this with happy emotions—breathing out prayers for continued joy.

Yet there are moments—boy are there moments—when patience and grace fly out the window and bitter words fly out of my mouth faster than unsecured trash flies out of the back of a truck...or else they build up behind clinched jaw with such intensity that my head begins to hurt…

One of my favorite lessons to teach is a lesson based on a musical version of The Little Red Hen. In case you don’t know the story, here’s a summary: The little red hen wants to make some bread (starting with growing the wheat) but everyone she asks for help refuses. In the end, when the bread comes out of the oven and smells delicious, all of the hen’s friends come running for a taste. “You didn’t help me make the bread,” she says, “so you’re not going to help me eat it.” So she eats it herself.

When I first started teaching this lesson, I wanted the ending to change. I wanted the little red hen to forgive trumpet, flute, clarinet, violin, and trombone and give them bread regardless of their sloth. But she never does. Nor does she forgive cat, dog, hen, duck, rat, pig, or any other character in other versions of the story.

Yet these days, I’m okay with the ending. I’m okay with the fact that the characters get what they deserve in proportion to their efforts. I've learned all too well that we must sometimes suffer the consequences of our actions.

But I've also learning something else: I'm okay with the ending because it really bothers me when people do things that do not hold other persons in regards. And the little red hen's friends did not hold her need in regards.

It bothers me when people:

Refuse to help someone who obviously needs help.
Use something that belongs to someone else—without permission—and then does not put it back from where it came.
Laugh at someone with disabilities.
Make a mess and leave it for someone else to cleanup.
Take for granted simple gifts and acts of service.
Say that they will do something but not do it.

Like I said. I try to be patient and grace-filled. But sometimes things get to me. And surprisingly enough--thanks to the little red hen--I now know what those things are: people not holding others in regards.

For the times when I do not hold others in regards, oh God, forgive me.
And for the times when I lose my temper and act out of anything other than Love, forgive me as well.
Forgive us, oh God, we pray.
Amen.

A Teacher's Bad Day Confession

I was a smart aleck for a brief moment at car rider duty today. One of my coworkers said, “I have one more car rider slip for you.” I said, “Fine. But you can keep it. I don’t want it.” She responded, “Did you have a bad day today?” I smiled, chuckled, and said, “Nope. I was just being difficult. My day was fine. But yesterday was horrible.”

Yesterday was one of those days that I didn’t have it in me to joke at the end of the day. I was so exhausted and had dealt with so many behavior challenges that all I wanted to do was put the day to bed at 3:30. Do you know those days? The ones where hardly anything goes right and you feel like you’ve either been fighting a steady battle or run over by a truck?...

Each Wednesday night at the beginning of choir practice, I lead a brief devotional with my choir. I usually read a passage of scripture from the coming Sunday’s lectionary texts, offer a brief reflection or challenge, and lead a time of prayer. More often than not, I read the text from Psalms since it lends itself well to what we do as worship leaders. Yet last night I chose the New Testament reading because, truth be told, I was struggling in my desire to be there. Like I said, I wanted to put the day to bed at 3:30.

For it is commendable if someone bears up under the pain of unjust suffering because they are conscious of God.
But how is it to your credit if you receive a beating for doing wrong and endure it?
But if you suffer for doing good and you endure it, this is commendable before God.
To this you were called, because Christ suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in his steps.
“He committed no sin, and no deceit was found in his mouth.”
When they hurled their insults at him, he did not retaliate; when he suffered, he made no threats. Instead, he entrusted himself to him who judges justly.
“He himself bore our sins” in his body on the cross, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness;
“By his wounds you have been healed.”
For “you were like sheep going astray,” but now you have returned to the Shepherd and Guardian of your souls.

As I read those words last night, I felt God’s spirit connecting with my heart, reminding me that I am exactly where I need to be right now…and in the process giving me a peace that I hadn’t had all day.

Teachers do experience the pain of unjust suffering and have insults hurled at us.

We see the pain of abuse, neglect, hunger, hurt, apathy, exhaustion, and over-indulgence in our students eyes, and we are met with the plethora of resulting actions—acting out to be seen, blending in to not be seen, going back and forth between the two in an effort to find one’s voice.

We receive attitude from students who push as hard as they can to make us react in anger because reacting in anger is all they know and expect, and we are questioned by parents who do not agree with our actions.

We teach students who truly have mental and emotional needs that differ from the “norm” and we do so in classes of at least twenty students of varying socio-economic class, cultural expectations, and academic levels—many of us being the only adult in the room.

These things are parts of the job.
This is what we signed up for.
Yet day in and day out, it is hard work.
It is especially hard when we watch students whom we know capable of success begin to follow behavioral and/or academic paths that we know to be troublesome.

But we keep showing up.
And we keep trying to do good.
And we keep sacrificing monetary success for the belief that investing in lives is much more important than investing riches in the bank.

Jesus was not a public school teacher. But sometimes I wonder if he would have been had such schools existed. And sometimes I wonder if he would be now if he were alive today.

By his wounds we have been healed.
By his strength we keep going.
By his example we welcome the children as they come.
By his Love we are changing the world…
One student at a time…
Even on our very bad days…
Thanks be to God:
The shepherd and guardian of our souls.
Amen.

Love Is More

Love is more than
“Here Comes The Bride” and
Tears running down faces
When beauty is beheld.

Although that is part.

Love is more than
The passion of the wedding night and
The attraction that pulls two people together
In chemistry unexplained.

Although that is part, too.

Love is groceries and tires,
Smelly clothes and dirty dishes.

Love is silence and conversation,
Difficult questions and hard-to-hear answers.

Love is compromise and sacrifice,
Gut-wrenching release and stubborn holding-on.

Love is vulnerability and risk,
Daring honesty and brave heart.

Love is looking into eyes and doggedly declaring:
I believe in you regardless of how well you’re performing;
I see and celebrate the best in you while you can't see it yourself;
I hope for you even when there is nothing to like;
I commit to you though it may be easier to walk away;

I trust you enough to let you love me in return.

Love is not easy.
Love gives and takes time.
Love is perseverance.
Love is laughter, joy, and rhyme.

Love is
I choose you.
Thank you for choosing me.
So let’s keep choosing each other.
Because I really do love you.
And we’re going to figure this out
Together.
Okay?

Three Cheers for Cool Whip

A few weeks ago, B and I decided to feature dips for Treat Tuesday: Velveeta dip, taco dip, ranch dip, and pimento cheese. As I considered our menu, I realized that we were missing something sweet so I thought of a new dip: chocolate-chip dip. Far from revolutionary with this idea—Jason’s Deli has a delicious chocolate-chip mousse that I use as a dip with graham crackers rather than getting free ice cream—that’s how good it is—I bought a container of cool-whip, a box of chocolate pudding mix, and some chocolate chips. I mixed them together, put the mixture on a platter with some graham crackers, and an instant sweep dip was served. It was very good. So now I have two recipes in my Beginners Cookbook for Intuitive People: Chocolate Chip Dip and Cheese Potato Chips (melt cheese in microwave, pour over potato chips ).

…

Last week, B and I threw a party for our Harnett Off-Broadway students. In the past, when doing Harnett Off-Broadway, B and I have worked with two schools and thus had two parties: an ice cream sundae party with the K-2 school and a pizza party with the 3-5 schools. Since we only work at one school now, we decided to just throw one gigantic party: pepperoni pizza, cheese pizza, crazy bread, grape soda, orange soda, fruit punch soda, lemon-lime soda, vanilla ice cream, chocolate syrup, strawberry syrup, strawberry toppings, caramel syrup, chocolate chips, gummy bears, jelly beans, five types of sprinkles, whipped cream, cherries, and cheese-balls. After the kids finished their pizza, they were allowed to make their own sundaes. When I busted out the whipped cream, I had more than one kid ask me to squirt the whipped cream directly into their mouths. At first, I said no. Then, after everyone had gone through the line, I made a calculated decision and announced: “Alright! Everyone line up outside. Whipped cream directly in the mouth!” And so…one after one, the kids came. And one after one, B and I squirted whipped cream into milky mouths open and smiling with glee.

…

Today, I got pied in the face as part of a fund-raiser for Relay for Life. B wisely decided that I needed to wear diving gear: a snorkel, mask, and fins. I decided that I needed to wear my scrubs and an orange fish swim cap. I purchased and wore all of the above and had fifteen or so pies squished in my face. The cool thing? The dive gear was cancer awareness gear so a portion of the proceeds went to cancer research. And. The pies were made of cool-whip.

…

Three cheers for cool-whip (or I guess technically two for cool-whip, one for whipped cream)!
Hip-hip-hooray!

Three cheers for B and friendship!
Hip-hip-hooray!

Three cheers for celebrating life!
Hip-hip-hooray!
Hip-hip-hooray!
Hip-hip-hooray!

And don’t forget the spirit sprinkles.