A Happy Coffee Spill

 I don’t usually take my coffee into church,

But last Sunday I did.

I had a meeting after church that day and knew that I’d need the coffee to push me through,

So I took it in and placed it under the pew in front of me.

Somehow, and I still don’t know how,

I kicked my coffee cup and turned it on its side.

The lid fell off and the coffee spilled everywhere.

 

Thankfully, I sit on the second row,

So the coffee didn’t bother anyone else.

Thankfully, the day’s assisting minister saw the coffee spill,

So she went to get me some rags.

And thankfully, this event occurred during a particularly long time of announcements,

So I was able to clean up the mess without disrupting too much of the service.

But I was still embarrassed,

And I still had to walk out of the sanctuary carrying my coffee cup, trash, and rags…

And this is when the whole event turned serendipitous.

 

When I got to the fellowship hall with my coffee mess,

I noticed my friends Sherrie and Heidi each setting up their own stuff.

Sherrie was preparing materials for a church-wide mission project and

Heidi was preparing food to feed the people who stayed for said church-wide project.

Already out of the worship service,

I decided to ask if they needed help.

Sherrie did.

So I started setting up materials for the church-wide mission project, too.

I did this, alongside Sherrie, until it was time for the choir to sing.

If I hadn’t been there to help, then everything wouldn’t have been set up for the project,

And the project wouldn’t have gone as successfully as it did.

 

So…I guess you can say that my coffee-spill turned out for the best.

Whether God orchestrated the whole event or

God worked through the event brought on by clumsy feet

Is up for theological debate.

 

All I know is that something embarrassing turned into something good,

And for that…

I am grateful.

 

“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who^[i] have been called according to his purpose.”  Romans 8:28

 

Amen.

DD Warrior Lady

 Last week, as I was standing on afternoon car duty,

A 2^nd grader stopped and said,
“I have something for you, Ms. Deaton,

For being the best music teacher ever.”

She then fumbled through her bookbag and produced a Pokémon card.

Afterward, she mumbled something about someone being mad at her or

Her being mad at someone and

How they didn’t deserve something and

Then she walked away.

I have no idea what she was saying.

 

I have three observations on this event, though:

 

1)      I’m the only music teacher she’s ever had, so I hope I’m the best one 😊. I also hope I deserve the title of best music teacher ever, not because I think I AM the best, but because I try to do my job well and to love all of my students…even the ones who push boundaries and try patience—which, quite honestly, is this girl.

 

2)      I have a feeling that I got a present that day not because she had planned to give ME a present but because the intended recipient of said gift had made her mad. Sometimes, the best gifts are unplanned, spontaneous ones. And sometimes what may have been intended for one purpose is better served as another.  

 

3)      I have no interest in Pokémon cards and don’t really understand them. But the card she gave me was absolutely perfect: DD Warrior Lady. If I’m going to own a Pokémon card, then this is the one I want to own. Deanna Deaton Strong Fighter Trooper Woman.

 

So thank you, dear second grade student who impulsively gave me DD Warrior Lady.

Your gift encouraged and challenged me to be

A better version of myself.

A teacher—

A warrior—

A woman ready for battle…

And every day in the classroom IS a battle.

 

Amen.

School Administration Is Not For Me

 For most people,

A graduate degree is a career step forward—

A way to move up the ladder—

A way to make more money.

For me?

I am doing the exact same thing that I did when I graduated with my undergraduate degree—

I’m just a lot better at it—

And I’m making about the same amount of money as I did when I started—

But that’s a different post—

And I have TWO graduate degrees.

 

No doubt, my Divinity School experience grew and changed me as a person.

They were some of the most formative years of my life.

But my Master of School Administration?

I have no idea what it did for me except provide me with a lot of good memories

And a different perspective on school administration—

Which, I have determined, is not for me.

 

It’s a thankless job, really—

School administration—

Always dealing with complaints—

From parents, teachers, students, school board members, and the community—

Always dealing with discipline issues—

Always putting out fires—

Trying to lead with vision but being weighed down so heavily that you can barely see.

 

Maybe that’s why

A few weeks ago during the prayers of the people,

I felt compelled to pray for my administrators.

The urgency hit me like a wave and washed over me until I was saying their names.

 

You need to know that I have amazing school administrators.

I can only begin to know what all they deal with on any given day—

And that’s just at work.

They have lives outside of school as well.

So this urgency to pray?

Well…It’s the least I can do.

No…Actually…it’s the most I can do.

To lay down my life for others in prayer.

 

So I’m going to ask you to join me in praying for your school administrators.

And if you don’t teach, or have students in school,

Then I’m still going to ask you to pray for school administrators,

And teachers,

And school board members,

And politicians who affect schools in ways they don’t even know.

Public schools are under attack in ways that I won’t go into here.

We need good people.

Yet we are losing them every day.

 

God: Thank you for guiding me to a place with leaders who care for others and lead with trust and encouragement rather than micro-management and hand-slaps. Be with them now. Grant them wisdom, strength, stamina, courage, and the vision to lead us forward. Renew and refresh their spirits and give them happiness and contentment in their lives and work. Be with teachers who have difficult administration. Be with administrators who lead out of intimidation and fear and help them to see alternative ways. Transform lives and modify ways so that love and respect are modeled for all.

 

Amen. 

Forgiveness

 Forgiveness is such a complex word.

At my church, we ask for forgiveness at the beginning of worship each week.

We repent from things seen and unseen,

From actions done and left undone,

And we are granted pardon through the grace of Jesus Christ.

Then, later in the service,

We ask, again, that God forgive us our trespasses,

But this time, we include the condition “as we forgive those who trespass against us.”

I find this interesting in two ways.

 

One:

We’ve confessed our sins and been forgiven at the beginning of the service.

So why ask for forgiveness again?

Either we’ve done something sinful during the service—which is entirely possible—

Or we’re acknowledging that acceptance of forgiveness isn’t easy—and that we must be reminded of it over and over and over again.

 

Two: We’re asking God to forgive us AS WE FORGIVE OTHERS.

This means that if we want God to forgive us then we must forgive others…

And, man, that’s hard sometimes!

It’s hard to forgive those who deeply wound us.

It’s hard to let go of the emotional pull of intensely emotional situations.

It’s hard to move past egregious wrongs.

Shoot. It’s hard to move past simple wrongs as well.

Yet Jesus commands us to forgive.

 

As I’ve pondered Jesus’s command this week,

I’ve come to realize that, for me,

Forgiveness comes from a place much deeper than hurt.

Forgiveness comes from common humanity.

God has granted us all the possibility of forgiveness through Christ.

None of us, at our core, is too wrong or bad to receive God’s grace.

If God’s grace is big enough for me,

Then I must allow it to be big enough for you, too.

I must forgive you for being human,

In all of its flaws,

And let God work with you to heal the brokenness that I cannot.

 

Forgiveness doesn’t mean that I have to suddenly like you.

Forgiveness doesn’t mean that we have to be best friends.

Forgiveness doesn’t erase healthy boundaries.

But forgiveness DOES release paralyzing emotional bonds—

Forgiveness DOES acknowledge that we were doing the best we could do under the circumstances—

Forgiveness DOES recognize mental illness as part of humanity’s sickness—

And forgiveness happens in time,

As a daily choice,

Over and over and over again.

 

May we be a people of forgiveness,

Rooted in common humanity,

Not forgetting,

Or glossing over hurt,

Or pretending that everything is fine,

But remembering the grace and love that God gives us,

Day in and day out,

Even in the midst of worship.

 

Amen.  

Names

 In a couple of weekends, I will be helping with a women’s retreat in Blowing Rock.

One of the things I will be talking about is the importance of names.

 

Evidently, I have a lot of friends who struggle with their names.

One only likes to be called her given name—do NOT shorten it.

One only likes to be called by the name she chose for herself—do NOT call her by her given name.

One doesn’t feel like her married name—she is her maiden name.

And one doesn’t like her first name, rather prefers her middle name—she feels no connection to her namesake.

 

Me, on the other hand, I pretty much answer to anything that starts with a D 😊.

I am Deanna, or Dee for short,

But I answer to Dana, or Diana, or Deana.

I don’t get offended when people say my name wrong,

And I don’t get angry when drive-thru workers spell my name wrong.

 

I do get angry at myself, though,

And when I do,

And I’m tired, or functioning under too-high-stress,

The names that I call myself aren’t very nice:

Dumb, stupid, worthless,

Ugly sinner saved only by grace—

Emphasis on ugly sinner, not on grace.

 

Idiot is a common name for Deanna in my mind.

Too Much, or Not Enough,

Are common names, too.

On one hand, I sometimes feel like I am too much for people—

Too deep, too thought-provoking, too intense—

On the other hand, I feel like I am not enough—

Not smart enough, not good enough, not worth sticking around for.

 

For too long,

Those ugly names were all I could hear—

Even on my best days.

But now, thanks to therapy and an ever-expanding view of God,

Beloved is the name I often hear.

Beautiful Child of God,

Created by God,

Loved,

Redeemed,

Enough…

 

Names are important.

Whether it’s the names that we are called,

Or the names that we call ourselves,

Names have power

Because they represent our identity—

And our identity is who we are.

 

What’s in your name?

 

What names do you call yourself?

 

What names would you like to live into?

 

Spend a few moments considering your names now.

 

And then be thankful that, above all else,

God calls YOU, too,

Beloved.

 

Amen.

**Listen on Spotify: https://spotifyanchor-web.app.link/e/k7y8Wq93bDb

A Simple Act of Kindness

 As I was standing on duty Monday morning,

I heard a student begin to cry.

Honestly, I didn’t think anything of the tears

Because this particular student cries a lot.

When I asked what was wrong, though,

He told me that the door had hit him.

When I looked at the spot on his head where he pointed,

There was a large goose-egg and a small cut.

The door had hit him hard—

And his tears were genuine!

 

I decided to walk him to the nurse.

As we walked, one of my difficult 4^th grade students walked with us.

He can get so angry or frustrated that he kicks his bookbag or hits his head or yells at the teacher or his classmates,

Or he can be so extremely sweet that it melts your heart.

Monday morning was an example of the latter.

 

My 4^th grader compassionately and dramatically told everyone we passed that

My Kindergartener had his hit head and had a goose-egg.

Then, he looked at the Kindergartener and said,

“Don’t cry, little buddy. It’ll be okay. Try not to think about it.”

When the Kindergartener kept crying,

My 4^th grader said, without missing a beat,

“What’s your favorite car?”

To my surprise, my Kindergartener replied,

“The blue one.”

My fourth grader then engaged my Kindergartener in a conversation about the blue car until we arrived at the nurse.

As soon as my 4^th grader went to class,

My Kindergartener’s whimpers turned back into crying.

His distraction was gone.

 

Sometimes when we’re hurting,

We simply need someone to walk with us.

But sometimes when we’re hurting,

We need a kind-hearted distraction.

May we be the silent companion or the faithful distracter

For those around us.

And may we act quickly to dispense simple acts of kindness—

Even if it means talking about blue cars 😊.

 

Amen.

A Storm That Changes Everything

 Sometimes a storm comes and changes everything.

 

On Saturday, Heidi and I set up a booth for #_dandhdesigns_ at a local vendor fair.

Shortly after the event started,

Barb The Art Teacher showed up.

Amy The Disney Expert showed up too.

I didn’t know either of them was coming!

And none of us knew what was about to happen.

 

We were humming along,

Hanging out and chatting,

When suddenly we heard distant thunder.

Dark clouds quickly rolled in and rain began to fall.

We all worked to get our tables under the tent.  

And we used Barb’s emergency ponchos to cover the products still getting wet.

 

Then it happened.

 

A gust of wind picked up the tent beside us,

Pushed it into our tent,

Knocked over a bunch of our pieces,

And then kept dangerously rolling through the parking lot.

Thankfully no one was hurt.

 

Amy and I immediately grabbed our tent to keep it from blowing away.

Heidi and Barb immediately went to help the vendor next to us get her products to safety.

Amy and I continued holding our tent until two event workers came to help us take it down.

As we were taking it down, we realized that our tent was broken.

 

I don’t know everything that happened next.

I went to get the car, assuming that we would throw everything into the trunk in a disheveled mess.

But when I got to our site, it was empty.

Heidi, Amy, Barb, and the event workers had moved all of our products to a corner of the nearby shelter.

 

Barb asked if I had a towel, which, for some reason I did,

So she took the towel and began drying off our pieces.

Realizing that we were not yet leaving, I moved the car back to the parking lot.

Amy, Barb, and Heidi set up all of the pieces again and

We ended up staying for another two hours!

Every other vendor left during the storm.

Because we were the only ones who stayed,

We made some sales that we otherwise might not have made.

 

A stressful day turned into a strange success.

 

A storm came and changed everything.

 

On this September 11th,

I am reminded of the storm that hit 22 years ago today.

With the bombing of the Twin Towers,

America changed.

For some changes, we are grateful.

For other changes, we lament.

But one thing is certain,

 

A storm came and changed everything.

 

Oh God. When life’s storms hit and everything changes, help us to hold to the love of those around us, for it is your love made manifest on earth. Amen.