Chris and I returned home yesterday from a whirlwind trip to Norman, OK for the U2 concert and boy, was it worth it! What an awesome concert! I can’t even begin to describe the stage set-up, but it was as wide as a football stadium and about eighty feet tall. There’s a reason the band is only playing open stadiums! Even with the big set, humongous video screen, and 50,000 people, the concert seemed very intimate. The band had the ability to reach out and connect with everyone in the audience. Bono spoke as if he were speaking to a handful of people in his living room. The music flowed continuously for two hours. It was amazing, phenomenal, and inspiring. Two things I realized while at the concert: 1) Bono truly has a nice singing voice–very smooth, 2) The Edge is a truly gifted guitarist. As my husband said, “he rocked it out”!

I’ve been to good concerts before, but I can’t think of one that has topped this. It was just a great musical experience. The band came to play, and that’s pretty much all they did. There wasn’t a lot of showmanship, just four guys and their instruments having fun playing a gig–great, Great, GREAT.

The other great part of the trip was sharing it with our friends Bill and Jennifer. We had great conversation on our long car ride. We covered everything from kids to work, theology to food and the snippiness of “Helga” the Garmin’s attitude–sometimes within the same thirty-second interval! It made me realize the importance of having quality time with other adults away from kids!! In a nutshell, we went on a road trip. And it was fun.

Blessings and Peace,
Sara

Fall is by far my favorite season. I love the crispness in the air, the slight tingle in my cheeks as I walk outside, the deep smell of the earth as its goods are harvested, the woody scent of firesides. I love the vibrant colors–deep reds, bright yellows, russet oranges all accented by the golden light that filters through the trees. I love the sounds–the crunch of the leaves under my feet, the coaches whistle and plays called at football games, the drum beats and horn blasts of the marching band practicing in the early morning. Some associate Fall with dying, but I see it more as a beginning. A new school year, the advent of the holiday season, a time to rest, reflect and draw closer to those around us.

In honor of the first day of Fall, I’d like to leave you with one of my favorite Fall poems, “To Autumn” by Keats. I think he says it much better than I ever can.

Blessings and Peace,
Sara

As I was working through my bible study this morning, the focus was on splendor and majesty. It began in first chapter of Esther with a focus on worldly splendor and majesty then finished with Psalm 94, where the greatest splendor and majesty are attributed to God. I thought about that, how God created, actually created, the most wondrous sites on the planet. I thought about the sky at night, what a wondrous sight it is. You understand true majesty when you gaze up at the heavens on a cloudless star-filled night.

When Garrett and I left the house this morning, the first song we heard on the radio was Steven Curtis Chapman’s “Yours”, a beautiful song about how everything and every person on the planet belongs to God, both in life and death. I remembered, as we continued our early morning commute, how sad I was initially that I no longer had the cityscape to look at on my drive to work. I missed the structures of the city, the bridges and overpasses, the lanes of traffic, the billboards and graffiti. I missed the reflection of the morning sunlight off the streetlamps and the dew glistening on the streets. I especially missed the buildings, the majestic and splendid works of art human beings had created to fill the city sky. They seemed powerful and important and filled me with energy as I rushed into work knowing that I was part of this vast, thriving metropolis.

Yet, as I looked at the newborn sunlight caressing the green fields spread out like blankets on either side of me this morning, I realized that this is true majesty. The golden light, the nearly empty two-lane roads, the cows munching and the horses snuggling, the dappled light through the trees, all filled me with a sense of peace I’d never had driving in the city. I was reminded that nothing man can make can compare to the awesome splendor of God’s own creation. I’m so blessed to live in an area where I can truly see an abundance of God’s majesty and beauty.

Enjoy the day!

Blessings and Peace,
Sara

This is a question I ask my students all the time. What’s the point of this text? What’s the point of your essay? What’s the point of your statement? What’s the point of your question? What’s the point of you taking this class? I get so caught up in asking others what the point is for them, that I forget to ask the most essential point question of myself: What’s the point of me?

I’ve just started a new Beth Moore bible study over the book of Esther that I think will shed some light on that. We’ve only had one session thus far, but by the time Beth was finished speaking, the margins of my notebook were cram packed. It was as if God was just flooding me with thoughts and ideas. I’ve always loved the book of Esther. What girl wouldn’t? It’s the ultimate princess story, a fairy tale carved into the pages of scripture. What impressed me most during this first session was the focus on purpose, our individual destinies. God has shaped each one of us for a purpose, given us unique gifts, experiences, and perspectives to help achieve that purpose. If we’re focused, listening, watching and waiting with, as Beth states, “anxious anticipation”, God will do amazing things through us. Yet, as I reflect on my own personal experiences as a Christian, I worry that my faith walk is a series of missed opportunities. I know I have gifts and talents I am not using for the betterment of God’s kingdom. I have not reached out to others to show them the love of Christ. I have missed opportunities to share my own faith and I can’t remember the last time I genuinely invited someone to share in the experience of God through worship.

It’s not comfortable, stepping out on faith and in faith to introduce others to God. I feel unworthy, ill-equipped, anxious. I find myself telling God, “You better find someone else.” And he will, which means that I will miss out on deepening my relationship with him. I can miss out on my destiny, my purpose, and that thought freaks me out.

The book of Esther shows us how to push through our doubts, our fears, our insecurities and low self-esteem to see how God wants and will do wondrous things through the most common and messed-up creatures on earth–us! So, I’m prepared to be shaken, not stirred. I want to see God act in my life and the lives of others. I’m ready to stand up and say, “Hey, that’s my God working through this situation and that’s the point!”

Blessings and Peace,
Sara

A friend from Kansas City has just started a new blog called “Godsy Girl”. Check it out! She’s an awesome writer.

godsygirl.blogspot.com

Blessings and Peace,
Sara

So, I have to send a thank-you to my friend Meg for introducing me to the “cutest blogger on the block” website. There are tons of free downloads you can add to your blog for a mini-makeover. It’s so cool! I had to resist all of the Fall designs since, technically, we aren’t there yet. So, I settled for “school-girl charm” since the school year has officially begun and my husband will like it because he’s a guy and thinks anything that resembles a school-girl uniform is “hot”:)

The school year is well underway here in SW Missouri. It’s hard to believe that we’ll have almost three weeks of school under our belts before Labor Day!! Does anyone else remember the time when school began after LD and ended before Memorial Day? Ah well… it keeps me busy!

School is off to a great start! Well, my mentoring students are doing nothing at the moment, but they’re my D and F students so there quite accustomed to that. I can only do so much to get them to get their work done and into their teachers, so if they want to waste this time, I’m not going to stop them. At some point they’re going to have to make a conscious choice to DO SOMETHING! It will probably occur next year when they realize that they can actually graduate but need to get their butts in gear to make it happen. Then I will move from nagging them to death to patting them on their backs and telling them, “you can do it!”.

I’m trying to educate and cultivate my juniors at the moment. We’re watching part of the PBS documentary The New Americans. They get a first-hand look at the experiences of Dominican baseball players, a Palestinian bride, and Nigerian refugees. A lot of it is subtitled, but they’re handling it surprisingly well. Anytime they can watch TV in class, they consider it to be a worthwhile lesson:)

Speaking of lessons, Chris gave Garrett an amazing lesson in grace the other day. I was super impressed. I must confess that I don’t always give my husband all the credit he deserves in the parenting process. Like many mothers, I just assume that since I carried and gave birth to the children, I automatically know what’s best for them. One of Chris’s common sayings to me is: “I am his father, you know!” He’s actually an amazing father. He’s always there for the boys, gets them ready and to the sitter’s every morning, gets them to sleep at night and engages in instructive discipline. Which leads me back to my original story– a lesson in grace.

Garrett was being a major pain in the rear last Sunday. He threw temper tantrum after temper tantrum. On one such occasion, he got overly zealous and slammed a bathroom door in his little brother’s face, knocking his brother to the ground. He was immediately sent to time out and went, literally, kicking and screaming. Chris went through the time-out drill with him– hands in lap, feet on floor, face front, no talking. Instead of complying, however, Garrett started screaming at Chris, “No! No! No!” At one point he even yelled, “Shut up!”, which he’s never done before (thank you Shrek) I’d had it. I came marching into the living room and told Garrett to knock it off. I also told him that Daddy and little brother were going for a walk to the park to play and he was staying home with Mommy and going to bed if his attitude didn’t change.

Our routine with time-out is that before Garrett can actually get out of time-out, he has to tell Mommy and Daddy why he’s there and apologize for the behavior. Chris called Garrett to him and placed Garrett on his knee. He asked Garrett what he’d done wrong. Garrett told him. Chris then asked Garrett if he deserved to go to the park. Initially, Garrett thought yes, but after a review of the aforementioned behavior, decided that he indeed did not deserve to go to the park. However, and this is the truly brilliant part, Chris told Garrett: “No, Garrett, you don’t deserve to go to the park. But you know what? Daddy loves you, so you’re going to get to go.”

What an amazing lesson is that?! Of course, Garrett’s only three so some of the finer theological principles are going to be lost on him, but what a great little seed planted. I’m so proud of Chris and his thoughtfulness as a parent. He taught me a lesson too.

Blessings and Peace,
Sara

Well, another first day of school is under my belt and, aside from a projector not having power, all went well. I awoke this morning with my usual pre-school jitters. It doesn’t matter how long I’ve been teaching, I always approach the first day of school with lots of excitement and a bit of fear as well. I took some time for a morning devotional, and it was so perfect I just smiled and thanked God then and there for the words.

The devotional was entitled “Good Enough?” and spoke to the insecurities all of us feel, especially on the first day of school. Will my lessons go smoothly? Do I have enough prepared? Will my students like me? Will my principal be impressed? Will my colleagues respect me? Am I a good enough teacher? Is she better than me? The devotional reminded me that, despite what I or others think, God has made me “good enough” for the tasks he has given me. There was scripture that went with it, but what kept going through my mind was that I “am fearfully and wonderfully made”. I just need to be myself and use the gifts God has given me.

The prayer that closed the devotional was the perfect prayer for my day. It was exactly what I had wanted to put into words. Thank you for loving me enough to make me good enough, and help me to show your unconditional love to others.

We’ve been talking about “bucket filling” to start the school year and all of the faculty and staff in the district have been given the book “How Full Is Your Bucket” by Tom Rath. It was written in coordination with his grandfather who was dying of cancer and had spent a lifetime researching positive psychology. Basically, the theory goes that we all carry with us an invisible bucket and invisible dipper. We can choose to fill the buckets of others and thereby enrich the lives of those we come into contact with as well as our own, or, we can be bucket dippers and spread around us an environment of negativity and apathy. Naturally, our superintendent would prefer us to be bucket fillers. I’m pretty confident that God feels the same!!

So, God doesn’t just know his stuff, he knows us and has created us to reflect his love to others.

Have you filled someone’s bucket today?

Blessings and Peace,
Sara

Well, after a summer hiatus, I’m back at work–and I love it!! Don’t get me wrong, the summer at home with my boys was great. We had a blast, and I loved spending time with them, playing, swimming, watching movies, taking trips, but it’s good to be back in my own space doing something I love. My hat goes off to all of the stay-at-home mom’s out there. It is a really tough job with terrible pay but, I would venture, huge benefits. I am just not cut out for that line of work.

So, the boys are back at the sitter’s and I’m in my classroom getting lessons together. I’m doing more standards-based grading this year, which means that you only grade assessments which truly show mastery of objectives. It’s a lot of work to get together, but it will mean much less time spent grading in the long run.

I’ve recently realized that there’s a quiet revolution in education taking place, and it’s not sponsored by the government. Educators are working to take back their profession, to raise the level of expectations, and truly try and prepare our kids for the world they will live in, not the world we came out of. It’s good. There’s a lot of good stuff going on. Our district just invested $500,000 in new technology upgrades. We have a district website now on which each teacher has a class webpage. I’m going to attempt to create class blogs for my pages, as well as links to useful resources, etc… I’ve learned I am a digital immigrant teaching to digital natives. It’ll be slow going, but I’ll get there!

Well, it’s 3 o’clock. Time for me to pack up and hit the road.

Blessings and Peace,
Sara

Having children completely changes your life. Everybody knows that. All of a sudden, (although not really–you’ve had almost a year to prepare, right?) you become responsible, absolutely completely responsible, for another person, another life. Everything you once were gets shoved aside as you shift your focus onto growing and sustaining the life of this little person cradled in your arms. Your child becomes your focus, and you find yourself doing things you never thought you were capable of. Breast-feeding, pulling continuous all-nighters, cleaning up explosive poop, pulling buggers from noses. Most people expect this in some way shape or form when they have children. What they do not expect, what I did not expect, were the absolute changes in vocabulary.

I am an English teacher, so language is important to me. Whenever I sit down to blog, it takes me at least 45 minutes to get through a post. I have to choose my words carefully, edit, revise. I can’t even write in a journal without thinking about how I’m going to phrase my thoughts! So, when I find myself chanting, “Go Garrett, go Garrett, make some stinks, in the potty!” I realize I’ve come to the parenting point of no return. I mean, I have a Master’s degree for crying out loud! I can discuss eschatology and the hermenutical circle. I can deconstruct a Robert Frost poem (“Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Day is not about the beauty of nature, by the way) or provide an in-depth literary analysis of Pride and Prejudice. I despise text messaging because it’s so grammatically incorrect and I absolutely refuse to put in writing, “how ru?”. Yet, all of that seems to be thrown out the window when it comes to my children. Instead of discussing the symbolic nature of Poe, I discuss the symbolic nature of Lightning McQueen.
“Is that Lightning McQueen?”
“Yes, Garrett. That is Lightning McQueen.”
“What’s Lighning McQueen doing?”
“He’s racing.”
“Is he racing?”
“Yes, Garrett. He’s racing.”

Instead of discussing the principles of the Trinity, I discuss the principles of toddlers.
“Garrett, I swear if you’re playing in that toilet again I’m going to spank your bottom!”
“We’re not going outside until you put some pants on!”
“Did you color on the bathtub? Are you supposed to color on the bathtub? What are you supposed to color on? Is this paper? Then should you color on it?”
“Stephen, don’t eat the cat food!”
“Stephen, don’t eat the dirt!”
“Stephen, don’t eat your poop!”

And finally, instead of speaking with eloquence and thoughtfulness, I speak in raspberries.
“Hey Stephen, how’s it going there under the table? Finding any good crumbs to munch on?”
“Phlblblbblblblblbbl…..”
“Oh, really? Well, phlblblblblblbbl to you to, Bones.”

Yes, having children definitely changes you in many surprising ways. And as they grow and mature and become their own individuals, you don’t ever return to the person you once were. And although your teenage children might see you as a dithering, batty, out-of-touch, nosy nuisance, you’ll see that you’ve raised a thoughtful, eloquent, independent young man or woman and that you’ve grown in ways you never thought possible. Thank God for our children!

Blessings and Peace,
Sara

Yesterday was “Warm Fuzzy Day” at school, a day in which both teachers and students are given necklaces on which a ball of bright yarn strings are attached. Throughout the day, people exchange these strings of yarn for hugs. The kids love it. PDA is acceptable for one day of the year and it gives them an excuse not to learn. Most teachers hate “Warm Fuzzy Day” for the same reasons. I, however, thoroughly enjoy it. Maybe I’m just an emotionally needy person, but I enjoy a day devoted to hugs. It’s only once a year, after all, and as high school teachers, we don’t really get the opportunity very often to show affection to our students. It’s a one-time opportunity to put your arms around your students and say, “You know what, you’re a good kid.” They need to hear that, and we need to say it.

I’ve embraced “Warm Fuzzy Day”, so much so that I’m actually thinking of recommending to my Congressional representatives that it should become a national holiday. Can you imagine? Think about it. Think about walking into a restaurant and having the hostess give you a welcoming hug saying, “I’m so glad you’re here.” Think about actually placing the tip in your server’s hand, then pulling him in for a hug and saying, “Thanks so much for all of your service this evening.” Think about the overly harried woman zooming through the aisles of the grocery store with a screaming child in the cart, a list in one hand, caffeine in the other. Picture yourself pulling your cart alongside her as she frantically scans the meat at the deli counter, placing your arm around her shoulder, smiling, and saying, “You have such a beautiful child.” Or, picture the older woman, her shoulders stooped over her grocery cart, shuffling slowly through the aisles, her list grasped tightly in her weathered hand. Her cart is mostly empty, save for a box of Folger’s Singles and a box of vanilla wafers. Imagine yourself going up to her as she reaches up for a loaf of whole-wheat bread, pulling the bread down for her, smiling, saying, “That sweater really brings out the blue in your eyes.” And give her slight frame a gentle squeeze.

The world would be much different, I think, if we had a national “Warm Fuzzy Day.” Instead of cursing other drivers on the road, we could smile and wave. Instead of honking in impatience, we could honk in joy, smiling and waving madly to our fellow travelers. We could hold doors open for people again, ask “How are you?” and genuinely want an honest response, compliment one another on jobs well done. On “Warm Fuzzy Day” hurt feelings would be put aside, anger would be let go of, and adversaries would come together for a warm embrace saying, “It’s really good to see you today.”

Yes, I am a fan of “Warm Fuzzy Day”. It’s only one day, after all. How hard can it be to show only kindness for one day?

Blessings and Peace,
Sara