At Least Until The Bell Rings

This morning, I had a student tell me about her dreams from last night. She dreamed that one monster was under her bed and that another was in the closet—both were big, black, and scary—with red, slanted eyes and sharp fangs for teeth. The monsters kept trying to eat her brother. Then her brother told me about his bad dream. He dreamed that his dad died.

I've seen Monsters Inc. It's actually one of my favorite movies. But somehow, I'd forgotten that kids still think that there are monsters in their closets and under their beds. Actually, I think I’d come to believe that modern American kids have outgrown being afraid of monsters because of Monsters Inc.’s ending and because of the fact that I’ve had numerous kids tell me that they laugh at scary movies.

So when I heard my students talking about their bad dreams and fear of monsters this morning, my heart broke. I wanted to scoop them into my arms and hug them and tell them that the monsters in their heads and under their beds aren’t real and that they don’t have to be afraid.

But I couldn’t do that.
The bell rang.
And they had to go to classes that I didn’t teach today.
And then they had to go home…thankfully to parents who are a steady presence in their lives and will, indeed, tell them that they are okay.

But what about the others? What about the students who don’t have steady parents to scoop them into their arms and tell them they are safe? What about the students who don’t have stable parents to help them know what is real and what is make-believe and what is in the grey in between?

Such were the questions on my mind when I began preparing the morning announcements, and such was the reason that the thought of the day was this:

Don't worry, little one,
You have nothing to fear.
Just take my hand and hold on tight
And know that I am here.

When your dreams at night get creepy,
When your thoughts scare you out of sleep,
Just take my hand and hold on tight
And know your heart I'll keep.

I love you seems so simple
Yet more passionate words seem few
So take my hand and hold on tight
And feel my love for you.

Don't worry, little one,
You have nothing to fear.
Just take my hand and hold on tight
And know that I am here.

I don’t know if anyone heard the thought of the day or not.
But I know I had to read it.
Because I know that all of us,
No matter how young or old,
rich or poor,
strong or weak,
quiet or loud,
Need to hear the words
“Don’t worry, little one,
You have nothing to fear.
Just take my hand and hold on tight
And know that I am here...”

The Lost Is Found

About an hour ago, an excited “woo-hoo!” sounded from upstairs. I was having a personal moment of celebration because what was lost had been found. If Luke had written a parable about my predicament, he would have written:

Suppose a teacher has six flash drives and loses one. Doesn’t she check the pockets of all of her pants and jackets until she finds the one that is missing? And when she finds it, doesn’t she picture message all of her friends and say, “Hoooray! I have found my lost flash drive!” and doesn’t she hold the flash drive in the air and grin in the presence of her parents? In the same way, I tell you, there is rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents.

Yesterday’s sermon was on the need for joy and celebration in both everyday life and the church. It was the final sermon in a series of sermons on fasting—on the focal passage of the Lord’s Prayer—on losing to find. It was a slap in the face to me that I had completely botched the last week of fasting—which was less of a giving up of something specific than it was of an adding intentional praise.

Last week was probably the hardest week I’d had since returning to school. I wrote my confession on Thursday, so I don’t need to write it again, but I will add that I left school on Friday feeling totally exhausted and defeated. As I realized through another sermon last night, I had allowed myself to see school as a giant and myself as a grasshopper. I had allowed doubts, frustrations, insecurities, and failures to cloud the certainty of my call back into the public schools.

I began today with the determination to try a do-over of last week’s fast. I was determined that, somehow, I would find encouragement in my days and focus on the positive…

When I got to school this morning, I had a note waiting for me. It was a thank you note that said something to the extent of, “Thank you for giving so selflessly of yourself without expecting anything in return. You are a blessing to J’Ville.” [I left the note at school so that I could refer back to it when having a rough day.]

When I got home from work today, I had a FB message waiting for me. It said, “Hey friend. Prayers for you this day that you would hop high in very tall grass. I know that you will find a path of grace and peace in all the weeds that seem to be in the way to something beautiful in public schools.”

When I receive words like these, I have no trouble keeping my determination…

But I still have little doubt that my determination will be challenged once students return to classes tomorrow and the reality of my still being behind sets in.

Yet I’m going to do my best to remain positive…to celebrate the small things…to not lose my flash drive again but to totally lose myself…and to remember that I, alone, am limited but that I, with Christ, “can do all things.”

One Opposite of Division? Peace.

Week Four Fast: Food. Success! I successfully made it through my week of fasting the grocery store and CVS. The only time I stepped foot into the grocery store was when I was shopping for Mrs. Flora, and even then I only bought the items that she needed. The week was hard. I missed shopping for deals. But I prayed a lot, saved quite a bit of money, and learned that I could survive without buying gifts. Because of my fasting momentum, I was even able to go into Hallmark and only purchase what I went to buy. That is huge.

Week Five Fast: Division.

I began this week’s fast by joining my church. I’ve been going to Antioch for quite some time, but I hadn’t felt led to move my membership until three Sundays ago. I waited that Sunday because I hadn’t talked about it with my family—and because we only sang one verse of the invitation hymn. I waited last Sunday because we didn’t sing an invitation hymn at all. I almost waited yesterday because so many people responded to the invitation. But I walked my two pews of an aisle and stood beside the pastor and declared my desire to stand alongside him and the church as we move forward together. I didn’t realize until later how truly significant it was—and is—that I joined the church the week that our pastor challenged us to fast division…the thoughts that separate…the things that keep us apart.

The timing of each week’s fast has been serendipitous.

When I think of division, I think of separation. Misunderstanding. Bitterness. Discord. Battles. Lack of harmony. Absence of unity. Situations unresolved. Fear of being seen.

When I think of division, I do not think of peace. When I think of division, I do not think of compassion…or love.

Is it any surprise, then, that my devotion from yesterday was a prayer for peace and that my devotion for today is a prayer for compassion?

Prince of Peace, whose peace cannot be kept unless it is shared, I seek to receive your peace and communicate peace to others today…I know that if I want peace in my heart, I cannot harbor resentment. I seek forgiveness for any negative criticism, gossip, or destructive innuendos I have spoken. Forgive any way that I have brought bitterness to my relationships instead of helping bring peace into misunderstandings. You have shown me that being a reconciler is essential for a continued, sustained experience of your peace. Most of all, I know that lasting peace is the result of your indwelling Spirit, your presence in my mind and heart…Show me how to be a communicator of peace that passes understanding. Help me picture the people with whom I am to be a peacemaker, bringing healing reconciliation, deeper understanding, and open communication.

And who do I picture? My students and colleagues. Especially my 5th graders…although today I failed miserably at being a communicator of peace.

Gracious God, repeatedly in the Gospels I read the words, “He had compassion.”…Thank you, Lord, that you have resources, people, and unanticipated strength to help me do today what those around me cannot imagine possible—show compassion and love. Break through my protective layers and the protective layers of those I meet with blessings we cannot anticipate. Then, send me to the broken-hearted to communicate Your healing power.

And where has God sent me? Back to the public schools. To work with students, teachers, staff, and parents. Especially 5th graders…although most of the time I feel that I fail miserably at breaking through their walls.

God’s grace is great enough to meet the great things,
The crashing waves that overwhelm the soul.
The roaring winds that leave us stunned and breathless,
The sudden storms beyond our control.
God’s grace is great enough to meet the small things,
The little pin-prick troubles that annoy,
The persistent worries, buzzing and unrelenting,
The squeaking wheels that grate upon our joy.
(--Annie Johnson Flint)

God’s grace is great enough.
God’s strength is strong enough.
God’s desire for unity is powerful enough.

I am so glad.

Dear Grocery Store, I Miss You Already...

Week One Fast: Television and Social Media. Success. Sort of. I did well with Social Media but watched at least one TV show per night to keep me company and comfort Bullet in my dad’s absence.

Week Two Fast: Hurriedness. Success. Totally. I felt the slow-down in body and spirit.

Week Three Fast: Isolation. Success. Sort of. I tried really hard to make new connections with those around me but didn’t successfully spend time with anyone outside of my normal people—school people at school, family, Flora, and Barb. I’m going to continue working on this one while seeking to be mindful of personal boundaries.

Week Four Fast: Food. Food. Sigh.

My guess is that most of my fellow church-goers are fasting food (and drinks) such as chocolate, ice cream, candy, desserts, red meat, coffee, soft drinks, and fast food. Upon thinking about each of these things and considering the cost of fasting from them, I realized that I could somewhat easily do each of them—except for coffee—and that’s only because I didn’t want to have a caffeine headache on top of the headache that I’d likely grow while leading my students in instrument playing each day this week . I did, however, decide that I would fast from going out for coffee…unless given the opportunity to work on week three’s isolation fast by hanging out with a friend.

“So what should I fast?” I pondered. And then it hit me: the grocery store.

Food Lion. IGA. CVS (that I sometimes treat as a grocery store).

Not going to the grocery store is going to be a bigger challenge and sacrifice for me than not eating or drinking any particular food or drink.

I love going to the grocery store.

I love shopping for deals. I love buying things for school. I love buying things for other people. All at the grocery store. In fact, I went to the grocery store over 20 times in September and bought everything from crayons to citronella candles to coffee—lots and lots of coffee for the coffee club at school.

I’ve found that IGA has a discount dairy counter that’s regularly updated with items that need to be sold quickly. I like to stop by and see what’s there.

I’ve found that Food Lion has a discount corner that’s stocked with very random things. I like to stop by and see what’s there, too.

Plus I just like to walk up and down the aisles and look at things. If I find a super good deal, then I purchase it. Sometimes I go into the grocery store just to kill time and end up leaving with an armful of stuff. Last week, while waiting for my Chinese food to cook, I called Barb and said, “Hey B. This is Deanna the Food Lion shopper…” and then proceeded to as her advice about purchasing some supplies for her classroom.

I really like the grocery store.

And it’s not lost on me that going to the grocery store is a luxury.

And so…this week I fast the grocery store. And it’s already been a challenge.

Tonight, when I went to get supper for my mom and myself, I ended up right beside Food Lion (see picture that I took from my car window). As stupid as this sounds, it physically hurt to know that I couldn’t go in. The same thing happened as I drove by the reduced price dairy counter at the IGA. You see. Tomorrow is Terrific Treat Tuesday at school and I really wanted to check on the Starbucks Iced Coffee and cookie dough. But alas…I made myself keep driving. And I prayed.

I’ll be praying a lot this week…which, after all, is the point—to structure my days around prayer and to pray this day for daily bread.

A Fast And A Conversation

A Fast, A Conversation, and A Poem…9.16.13

Well folks. I did it. I took off one week (minus two hours for a preplanned chat) from Facebook and I survived. I didn’t cheat. I didn’t even break the fast first thing yesterday morning. Strangely enough, I didn’t even think about it until the pastor mentioned it at worship. Maybe it’s because I started the fast last Sunday night? Maybe it’s because I couldn’t make myself get out of bed and was therefore running late for church? Maybe it’s because I’d gotten out of the habit? I actually think it might be the latter because I haven’t been on Facebook today…even though I got an e-mail about the thousands of notifications that I’ve missed.

And what did I do instead of getting online? I lay in bed and prayed first thing in the morning. I paid more attention to what was happening in the rooms I was in during the day. (If nothing was happening, I sat in the silence.) I shopped for major deals in the evenings. I sat with Bullet and/or cleaned during the nights. I visited friends and family on the weekend. I made a new friend. I thought about what was and wasn’t important to share with the world. I realized just how dependent society had become at communicating through Facebook—especially about dates, times, and events. I wrote three poems. I worked on a song that I can’t seem to finish. I prayed for my students. And I waited impatiently to be able to share my favorite conversation of the week. So here goes:

Me: You’re supposed to rest on Sunday, Mrs. Effie. That’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to go to church and then I’m going to rest. But tonight I’m going to go home and clean the garage for mom and dad and take care of Bullet.

Mrs. Effie: That’s why I like you so much, Sweetpie.

(I’m thinking, “Because I like dogs?”)

Mrs. Effie (continuing): You’re kind. You love your family. You love the church. And you love black people.

Me (a bit surprised by her statement but grinning from ear to ear and nodding in agreement): Well. Yes. Yes I do.

Mrs. Effie: You love black people. White people. Any color people. It doesn’t matter. You just love people.

Me: Yes. I do. And I. Love. YOU.

Mrs. Effie (grinning): And I. Love. YOU.