Serendipitous Moment

I like grocery shopping.

I like trying to find deals and

Seeing how much money I’ve “saved.”

I like going up and down every aisle,

Seeing what’s available and commenting on weird products if I’m with a friend.

(Grocery shopping with a friend is always more fun than grocery shopping alone.)

I like checking things off my list,

Whether the list is real or imaginary.

And I like putting everything in grocery bags,

Trying to get things in as few bags as possible.

 

What I don’t like about grocery shopping is

The crowds!

 

So, I had planned to go to my local grocery store last Saturday night.

I find that late nights or early mornings help me avoid the chaos of too many people.

But I needed to run errands on Saturday afternoon, so

I decided to just go on and go to the store while I was out.

I knew that I was putting myself in the middle of rush-day grocery shopping,

But something told me to go.

 

As projected,

There were a lot of people.

The aisles were crowded and

I was having to do some creative cart pushing,

But I was checking off my list.

And then I saw a friend and her son.

I hadn’t seen them in over a year.

We stood and talked for about ten minutes.

At first it was small talk,

And then she began to pour out her heart.

She was carrying so much and needed an outlet.

So I stood and listened and

We made undated plans to get coffee.

When we went our separate ways,

I thought to myself,

“What a serendipitous moment.

SHE is why I felt led to come to the grocery store in the middle of the day.

SHE is why I am here.”

 

Dear God: Help us to see the serendipitous moments in our lives and to celebrate them when they occur. You constantly allow things to happen in happy and beneficial ways. Whether you orchestrate them or whether they happen by chance, thank you. Amen.

The Word of God

The way I understand it,

The Word of God is alive and active.

It is not a static Bible to be read as a dictionary or rule book.

It is a dynamic text to be read by the guidance of the Holy Spirit,

In the context of community,

God’s body on earth,

With the same Jesus as the head

As the Jesus who is considered the Word himself,

Alive in the beginning,

And still alive and creating today.

 

The biblical Word of God should be read with an understanding of historical context,

As an overarching whole,

Centered on the main themes of God’s love, grace, and redemption

Throughout all generations.

 

When possible, the biblical Word of God should not be read in isolation,

And never should the biblical Word of God be used to proof-text beliefs.

Read like this, the biblical Word of God becomes a weapon for harm

Instead of a tool for guiding and building God’s Kingdom.

 

The Word of God is more powerful than the words written on the pages of the Bible

That was curated and canonized by humans many thousand years ago.

The Word of God is alive and active today,

In 21^st Century America and beyond,

Still speaking,

Still guiding,

Still working, and

Still creating

In ways that may surprise some of God’s people.

Unexpected 7th Grade Blessing

Yesterday was this year’s Harnett County Young Author’s Celebration. For a couple of reasons, I didn’t get the invitation until the beginning of last week and didn’t have time to talk to the other school winners, so I wasn’t sure if anyone else was going. [Johnsonville had the most entries in the county, two student winners, and three Forever Young (adult) winners.] Since today started two of the busiest weeks of my year, I really just wanted to stay home and take a long Sunday afternoon nap. But I’m a strong supporter of the Young Authors program, and I knew I needed to show that with my actions and not just my words. So I went. And I’m glad I went.

I must admit that I feel a bit silly sitting on stage with all of the student winners. I fear that it appears like I want to be honored. But that’s not it. I want to sit on stage with the students from my school so that they don’t feel alone. I want to be on stage with them to give them courage. And I want to read my writing aloud to model public speaking—not just to my students but to all the kids on stage.

When I got to the celebration yesterday, I saw my principal and one of my coworkers sitting in the audience. I also saw one of my students on stage! My coworker was not only the student’s teacher but also a Forever Young winner, so I grabbed her to go on stage with me. As we sat with the students, listened to them read, and watched them get their awards, I noticed a late-comer walking down the aisle. She looked frustrated. As soon as she made it to stage, her name was called to read. She read. Beautifully. Then she came to sit by me because it was the only seat left on stage.

After pictures were made, snacks were eaten, and everything was over, I went to my car to go home. As I was getting into my car, I saw my stage neighbor walking toward me. At first, I thought that she and her family were having car trouble. But then I heard her say, “I just wanted to tell you thank you for reading today. You did a really good job and it was really inspiring. It’s nice to know that older people still write and that not everyone has given up on it. Writing is so important.”

Humbled, I properly thanked my stage neighbor for her for her compliment (and overlooked that she called me old ), and then we had a fifteen minute conversation about writing, emotional expression, Harry Potter, literature, and band. I’m pretty sure she’d have kept on talking if I hadn’t realized that her mom was just sitting in the car waiting for her. But kudos to her mom for encouraging her to come talk to me. My stage neighbor, a 7th grader, had seen me walking to my car, wondered if it was me, debated whether or not she should speak to me, but finally walked over because her mom told her to go on and talk to me.

Knowing that it took a lot of courage for a 7th grader to speak to a stranger, I prayed through the whole conversation that God would give me the words that she most needed to hear, the questions that she most needed to answer, and the encouragement that she most needed to take away. I hope that I offered all of those things. And I hope that I will never forget the moment when I drove away yesterday and said aloud, “Well. I wasn’t expecting that. I guess it’s a good thing I came. Thank you, God, for guiding me to come. And thank you for unexpected blessings.” Amen.

I Wasn't Expecting That...

I recently told someone that my weeks had fallen into such a steady routine and that if anything gets off schedule then it could completely throw me off.

Mondays are work (first go at the week’s lessons and updates as needed, continued work on the week’s announcements), meetings, home for TV with my parents, and note writing. Also, beginning on Monday, each work-week afternoon includes setting up coffee for the next day on my way to afternoon duty.

Tuesdays are work and counseling or dinner with friends.

Wednesdays are school work, brief rest, and church work (worship service planning, choir practice, worship team e-mail).

Thursdays are work (compiling school-wide incentive data, e-mailing PTO, updating the incentive bulletin board, judging a school-wide writing challenge), home for TV with my parents, and note writing. The last Thursday of each month is dinner with a friend.

Fridays are work (handing out school-wide writing challenge prizes, changing the writing bulletin board, making a writing book, working on lesson plans) and either home or time with family and friends.

Saturday is my Sabbath--with as much rest and as little work as possible.

Sunday is church (two worship services), cleaning/nap, church (praise team practice), and weekly morning announcement preparation.

If I get off schedule, then, well, sometimes I get behind. Or if I don’t get behind, then I sometimes find myself ill that something has intruded upon my schedule.

Today, I found myself both behind in my work (from getting off schedule last week) and feeling ill that something had intruded upon my schedule.

Tonight was the Little River Baptist Association Annual Meeting. It was also the night that my dad was planning to announce his retirement (effective March 2016).

As my dad’s daughter, I knew that I needed to be at the meeting. As a teacher fighting a cold and feeling like poo, I knew that I had little desire to be at the meeting. But I went. And I’m glad that I did.

Not only was I there to support my dad (and mom), but I was also there to see a couple near the top of my “nicest people in the world” list.

We met many years ago when B and I started teaching and the wife of the couple, Betty, became our favorite volunteer.

As we talked tonight, and caught up, and I shared my heart for JES, I confessed my desire to be a chaplain in the schools—to support and encourage the many teachers who do and give so much to their work and students. I also confessed my wish for Betty to come volunteer at JES. She really was/is an amazing volunteer!

As I started to leave tonight, I mentioned that I was going to go to Starbucks to get some coffee. Betty agreed that that was a great idea and then reached into her purse to get something. I thought that she was reaching for a card but instead she was reaching for $10 to pay for my coffee.
As I was saying thank you, she continued reaching in her purse. Still thinking that she was reaching for a card, I was shocked when she handed me $100 and told me to use it however I felt led for my ministry—at school.

Speechless, I hugged her and said, “Wow. I wasn’t expecting that.”

She said, “I wasn’t either. This was a God-thing. I just felt led to do it.”

Then we both cried.

Folks, Betty comes from humble means. She does not have $100 to spare. And yet, hearing my heart tonight and having a heart for the public schools herself, she sacrificed out of the goodness of her heart.

Because she believed in me.

And my ministry.

And to think that I almost missed it because it wasn’t part of the schedule…

God: Thank you for structure. Thank you for schedules. Thank you for giving us the opportunity and ability to organize our lives so that we can make the most of our days. But God, when that structure and those schedules become so confining that they cause us to begin missing life, forgive us. Help us always to remain open to you and your leading—even when it interrupts our plans—and even when it doesn’t seem to make sense. And, God, help my dad as he begins to transition into retirement. I love you, God. Amen.

Holy Cow Exploding Sunroof

Dee’s car
Gigi The White Ant
2000 Toyota Avalon
262,000+ miles
No sunroof

Dad’s car
The Highlander
2013 Toyota Avalon
22,000 miles
Sunroof

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January 2013
Caraway Retreat Center
Introduced to a new game: iAssociate
The weekend changed my life

June 2013
Mom’s 70th Birthday Party
Mom given a nice gift: mini iPad
Dee introduces mom to iAssociate

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July 2014

Remember that time you were driving 70mph down Interstate 95 and your sunroof exploded?

Friend: Holy cow! Are you guys okay?

Me: Yes. It sounded like an exploding gun! We looked at each other like, “What was that?!” The car was driving fine, so I didn’t think it was a tire. The windshield was in tact. The roof was in tact. But then I heard a wind sound from above, so I cracked the sunroof lid and saw glass shards. I said, “The sunroof exploded!” Then we heard little pieces of glass flying behind us. Mom said, “We should have taken your car!”

Friend: Holy cow!!!

Me: Yeh. I was just driving along. Mom and I were trying to think of a seven letter word associated with both “golf” and “green” that started with B. We later figured out it was bunker. Ha. We were playing iAssociate.

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So what does one do when one’s sunroof explodes?

Wonder no longer:
• Clean up the glass shards as soon as possible. If you are able to go home, then go home and use the shop-vac that you should have either in your garage or somewhere where you can easily access it. Every home should have a shop-vac. If you are on a long road trip, then heed your brother’s advice and find a gas station with a pay-as-you-go vacuum cleaner. Chip off and get rid of as many loose pieces of glass as you can. Be careful not to cut your hand. If you cut your hand, use your car’s first-aid kit to tend your wound.
• Park your car under a carport or in a garage if possible. If not, cover the gaping hole in your car’s head with a tarp or plastic table cloth in case of rain, tropical storm/hurricane, or climbing cat. Secure the cover in the doors of your vehicle.
• Do not contact the car dealership. Though this is becoming a growing problem, car companies are not treating this as an issue for recall or factory fix. Instead, contact your insurance company and file a glass claim.
• Be prepared to pay your deductible directly to your insurance company. Most companies will accept most major credit or debit cards. Then be grateful that you have insurance because the total price of sunroof replacement is at least $1000. Also be prepared with a mom or a psychic to answer your dad’s insurance company security questions in case your dad is in Armenia and has absolutely no idea that his sunroof has exploded and that he has filed a claim.
• Follow your insurance company’s procedures for glass replacement. For example: after fifty minutes on the phone, Matt from Michigan connected me with a lovely sunroof replacement shop in Jacksonville. He over-night shipped the glass piece to James from Jacksonville and James from Jacksonville replaced the sunroof in fifteen minutes. He said that he replaces 7-10 busted sunroofs per month. His coverage area is from Savannah, GA to Gainsville, FL. Both Matt from Michigan and James from Jacksonville were very friendly and lovely to work with. Hope that you are able to work such helpful people during your sunroof explosion emergency.

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The Highlander is officially out of the bunker, folks.

But holy cow.

I am now quite afraid of sunroofs and
glad that Gigi The White Ant does not have one and
more grateful than ever to have the
ability, opportunity, resources, support, and freedom to
fix what I know to be a first-world problem
in a society where there are ever increasing third-world needs.

When Everything Falls In Place

Yesterday was Stanley’s 5th birthday. It also happened to be the day that mom and dad had arranged with Amelia to celebrate her half birthday. My parents do this for all of their grandchildren—take them out to eat on/around their half birthdays, buy them a book from a bookstore,take them to get dessert. When my mom told Amelia that it was Stanley’s birthday, she went into party planning mode. She gets this naturally from her mother. She got out the birthday hats and banner. She helped my mom bake a cake. She chose Stanley’s birthday outfit. She did everything she possibly could to make Stanley’s birthday one that he would remember…only “he’s stuffed so he doesn’t really have birthdays,” she later said.

I love Stanley. I do. But would I have thrown a party and cooked a steak dinner with dessert in honor of his birthday? Probably not. Yet. Everything fell into place for this to happen. My sister had steaks she had been waiting to eat with my parents. My parents were in town for Amelia’s half birthday. Amelia, lover of stuffed animals and creator of joy, was super excited about Stanley’s birthday. And so. We celebrated. And it was good.

A few months ago while the boys were at Nana Camp, they asked if they could move the boxes and instruments out of the closet where they were designing a fort. After I told them they could, they busily began excavating my things until they had everything out. With nowhere to put what was once tucked away, I left the spoils of their labor in a pile on my office floor. I’ve been looking at it ever since…

When I packed up my music classroom in 2007, I commented that the only way I’d consider teaching again was if I could teach with Barb, My Art Teacher. The likelihood of elementary art and music positions opening in a place that convenient for two people who live in differing counties is very slim…

But a position opened at Barb’s school shortly after I returned to NC last fall. It opened. It closed. And I began spending time with my 83-year-old friend who had only recently agreed to have someone visit with her and clean her house. I completed a unit of clinical pastoral education that grew and stretched me in ways that I didn’t know possible. I applied for a teaching job at a friend’s school whom I truly admire. I applied for a residency at a hospital in Wilmington. I could have accepted both positions but neither felt right. So I planned to do another unit of clinical pastoral education and I was content with the direction that life was taking me. Chaplaincy was on my mind and in my heart…

And then a position opened at Barb’s school again. And this time? It felt right. This time? Everything fell into place.

Despite what has happened with the legislature. Despite that many are fleeing the public schools rather than turning toward them. Despite my aversion to writing lesson plans. Despite that I may not have a classroom for part of the year. I am heading wholeheartedly back into a job that I was called away from five years ago. And I’m heading there with Barb.

That stuff that’s been in my office since the boys piled it there will be moving to Johnsonville Elementary School sometime next week. It’s moving to one of the lowest performing schools in the county and it’s going with a teacher who knows that she has been called into the classroom for this time at this place.

Did I see it coming? No! Not at all. But everything has fallen into place. And so, I celebrate. And it will be good. Just like Stanley’s birthday party.