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!

Words Have Power

Earlier in the week, at the bottom of a work-related e-mail exchange, I had a colleague write: “Thanks for all you do. I see all your hard work!” Such a simple statement…but those words have passed through my mind a gazillion times since reading them. “I see all your hard work.” There’s something to being seen. Not glazed over. Not overlooked. But seen. Paid attention to. Valued. In a work environment where I literally don’t see anyone other than my team of five—and that’s if I’m lucky—being seen is a challenge. And yet, this colleague sees me. And my hard work. And I have been working so very hard (as has the entire Teacher Body of the 2020-2021 School Year). Friends—I have said this time and time again, but I will say it again: Words have power. Even to those who don’t claim Words of Affirmation as their primary love language, words are transformational. Specific. True. Intentional words can literally change someone’s life… I have an encouragement folder in my e-mail. It’s full of messages that have encouraged me over the years. My colleague’s message is now in that folder. Friends: May we be writers of messages that make it into one another’s encouragement folders. Amen.

Daaaaaaaaaaaaam!

Toward the end of my 4th grade class today, one of the students commented, “Daaaaaaaam!” Outwardly, I told him to be careful with his language. Inwardly, I laughed. Daaaaaaaaaam! What a day! For me it wasn’t a bad day. It was busy and a little crazy learning to navigate between tabs while hoping that lag-time didn’t make songs unrecognizable. But I’ve heard so many different things from so many different people. One friend wrote: “First day of 2nd grade. Website crashed. We gave up. We yelled a lot. Fingers crossed for a better day 2.” Others wrote of long lines waiting to pick up supplies. Others went to school in person and are already experiencing mask fatigue. Others are still trying to figure out which way is up. And…Daaaaaaaaaam! That’s about the best way to describe it all. I’m chuckling over here…thankful that at the end of day 1, I am able to laugh. 😊 What about you? How was your day? School-related or not? I’d love to hear.

First Year Of Teaching All Over Again

It feels like my first year of teaching all over again, Sort of. Everything is new, Only I know a lot of things feel Old. Everything is uncertain, Only I know what it’s like to feel Certain. Everything is out of control, Only I know that I’ve had a taste of Control. And so I’ve worked this week to gain control— To accomplish one thing in many parts and have it Under my belt— Even if it’s not due for Months… Because, friends— It’s the best I can do this week: I who am grasping for something Tangible, Certain, and Controllable In a world that is anything but so. Maybe you’re there with me, too? And maybe that’s okay. Because maybe we’ll be okay. Because we made it through our “first year of teaching” The first time. We can do it again.

Bullet and the Stairs

In his old age, Bullet has become increasingly afraid. I imagine this has to do with not being able to see or hear very well, but he now needs a chaperone to walk, eat, pee, and/or poop. He also needs encouragement to go up and down the steps. He’s afraid of those, too…probably because he’s slipped a few times and hurt his belly. Yesterday, as we were out for Bullet to “do his numbers” (as Olga-Bullet’s-Co-Parent affectionately says), I noticed something that I thought quite amazing: The individuals steps are as high as Bullet—meaning that Bullet has to jump his entire body height each time he climbs one step. No wonder he gets a running start before he starts climbing! I suppose the momentum propels him forward. And no wonder I’ve always felt an innate desire to congratulate him each time he makes it up the steps! After realizing this fact, I started to wonder if I’d be able to make it up a set of stairs where each step was as high as me: Would I have the courage and determination to get a running start and leap up huge obstacles to get to my destination?... To be honest, that’s what these days feel like to a lot of people--huge, life-sized stairs. The obstacles are big—the upward climb is steep—we’re standing at the bottom, looking up, and we can’t see the top—yet we know that it’s there and that to move forward we must climb… In his old age, Bullet has become increasingly afraid. A lot of us have, too. And yet, the little guy faithfully and dutifully climbs major obstacles every day, a couple of times a day, though sometimes stumbling, because he knows that good things are waiting at the top. May we be like Bullet. May we faithfully and dutifully climb—even when the steps are as big as we are. May we believe, together, that good things are waiting on the other side. And may we encourage one another as we go—because every step really is a triumph…

Dream Cart

A few years ago, I had to teach from a cart one day a week. I tried, but failed, to find a cup holder extension for my cart and to add other accessories to make things more convenient for teaching. Instead, I spilled my coffee more times than I care to admit and I fumbled around with my instruments and teaching supplies in a disarrayed mess. Fast forward to this year. When we move to in-person learning, I am going to be teaching from a cart. I find myself having flashbacks to those days of spilled coffee and general disarray. Not wanting to experience that again, I have asked what kind of carts we will be using and if there is any chance that we could special-order our carts. The chance is slim, but it’s there. So… I spent about an hour researching carts the other night. And do you know what my #1 criteria was? You guessed it! A cup holder! And I found one! It’s super cool…with lots of possibilities for accessories…and the cup holder is built in! Folks: Teaching from a cart is hard. It’s far from ideal, but unless something drastic changes, it will be my reality for in-person learning this year. So I have a choice: I can hold onto a negative attitude and begrudge the year, or I can try to find little sparks of positive and make the most of what I’ve been given. I’ll be honest and admit that it’s easy to be negative. I’ve done my fair share of that this week. But if I am going to be the person I want to be, then I must do whatever I can to rise above the negativity and embrace every opportunity as a chance to grow. And so…I hold to the hope of a cart with a cup holder and the ability to accessorize! Hold to that hope with me, friends. For it’s never dark when we hold on to hope. Amen.

Light Bearers and Torch Snuffers

I went to school to de-personalize my room today. It was kind of depressing—packing up all of the things that make the room comfortable. And it was kind of confusing—trying to figure out what was essential vs. non-essential. I never did figure out the stapler and staple remover. After “work,” I took a load to the thrift store and went to the grocery store. I am the primary errand runner in the family now. I don’t like my mom and dad going out because, well, Covid. When I got home, I was tired and feeling a little…sad. But I had mail! My spirits lifted a bit. Then I opened my mail and my spirits lifted a lot. “Dear Deanna, Enclosed is a small gift from Trinity’s love fund, for each of the teachers affiliated with Trinity. We want to offer our support during this difficult time. Please use this however you see fit. I pray for God’s peace and guidance for you and your loved ones. In Christ, Pastor Ann” Wow. Just. Wow. A simple gesture, but one that means the world to me— A teacher, Thought of, prayed for, and supported because of the work I do, Will do, In a crazy and uncertain world. God, on days that are dreary—literally and figuratively— Thank you for rays of light—tangible and emotional— That brighten the world. Help us to be light-bearers rather than torch snuffers. Always. Amen.