Never Ever Dull
With every conversation, I always seem to end with "Never a dull moment"....our lives are rich, complex, and beautiful stories. Join me in laughing about everyday things and appreciating life-bumpy roads and all.
I awoke to flashing lights, red and blue. I rubbed my head to see if this was a dream or reality. It wasn't a dream, not by far. I peeked out the blinds and peered from my bedroom window. Seeing the source of the lights, I slipped on the shoes closest to me, grabbed a coat, and headed downstairs. 14 steps. It doesn't sound like a long journey, but it was.
You see, the last two days had been rainy. That doesn't sound too out of the ordinary, but it really was extraordinary. My little town of Franklin had received 20 inches of rain in 48 hours. What are the results with that much rainfall in a short amount of time? Flooding. Not just puddles overflowing making cars splash as they drive down the roadways. This was major flooding and I happened to live in an area close to the Harpeth River. And my home happened to be on low land. The result? Those flashing lights. I had enjoyed living in my 100-year old arts and crafts home. It had come a long way in that first year that my children and I lived there. I had tackled pulling down wallpaper, repairing plaster walls, and learning to simply paint over the wallpaper so I wouldn't create anymore plaster problems. I had pulled up linoleum floors, yanked out red formica countertops, and knocked down walls to restore this home to its original state. I had found joy in sanding, painting, replacing light fixtures, hanging up a porch swing....but I had not paid much attention to what was holding up the house. Lesson learned: The foundation of a house is critical. Restoring and decorating are fun, but it's what holds up the house that is the most important. After discussing my options with the police officer, I walked back into my home. I had a choice: to pack up and leave immediately or remain. The police officer explained that they would not be able to return to my area because it was now a risk. They had purchased every boat in our region and transported my neighbors out of the flood waters. She said that I needed to make a decision quickly if I wanted to get out; otherwise, I'd have to remain. My decision rested on what was behind the dark wooden cellar door. Once the rain had started, the kids and I evacuated to the cellar when we heard tornado sirens. It was during those times that we all noticed the water seeping into the cellar. Now, 48 hours of rain had occurred, and I needed to see how much water was behind that door. I turned the old brass knob above the skeletal key hole and heard the sound of water. I looked down and saw the water was only two to three steps away from approaching the first level of my home. It was time to flee. My girls helped me awaken the boys and gather our necessities. We helped our old golden, Mocha, into the back of our green Windstar van. I remember us debating on what to do with Tripod, our 3-legged cat. To coerce Tripod into a crate would take hours and we'd look like Chewbacca multiplied after wrestling her into that metal cage. We opted to close her into a room on the top floor of our home. We headed out. As we waited for the rain to cease and the floodwaters to rise, all I could think about was what was under the house. The house sat on pillars made of rocks cemented together. Surrounding those rock pillars was dirt, not concrete. When this home was built, the area was dug out, pillars placed, and then the house built. What happens when dirt meets water? Erosion, wash-out, mud. My mind raced with thoughts: Would the pillars withstand the flood waters? Would the dirt hold in place or wash away taking the house down? Was the house going to make it? All of a sudden, it no longer mattered what paint I had selected or which light fixtures I had chosen. What was of utmost importance was what held up the house, what the foundation was and if it would remain intact supporting the home. I pondered. I filled up with anxiety and worried. I contemplated what was next for us. It all came down to those rock pillars. Pulling back, I realize that my faith is so similar to this moment. So often, actually too often, I elect to spend time on things that are wonderful but not essential. What's essential are those pillars. What's holding up your faith? How strong is your foundation? When's the last time you checked to ensure that your foundation is firmly grounded? Unless the Lord builds the house, those who build it labor in vain....Psalm 127
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I rely on my google maps. All. The. Time. Although I've lived in this city for what's going on 6 years, I still pop in my destination and wait patiently for my phone to connect and tell me what to do next. However, there are times when I'm singing or chatting and miss the directive. Up shoots that "circle of death": rerouting. Again, I wait and scold myself inwardly for now having to go further down the road to make a U-turn, getting me to my final destination minutes later than I anticipated.
But at least, U-turns get me back to the goal, my desired location. It's worse when the road flat out ends and I'm left staring blankly at the asphalt crumbles that seem to just be breaking off and eroding away...not connecting to another path. My life came to a sudden, end of road kind of halt this past week. It wasn't expected. I was totally cruising along and thinking all was good, at peace, humming along. And my world came to a crashing stop with a phone call. It lasted a total of 4 minutes. Four. Words were spoken and were met with silence. Silence can be so very, very loud. Processing the words, no sounds came across the line and so the phone call ended. My road ended when I didn't expect it. What do you do with all that? I'm not sure. I draw from past experiences and know that my God is there and will be my refuge, strength, and provider. I know all this but....I just cried. It was that gut-wrenching sob that hurts but had to come out or I would burst. Each in my family handled it differently but we all hurt. Sometimes, the road ends. You look at the pieces and decide to leave them there. You turn away and hopefully, you find your way back home. Me: Hola! What's up? Coach: He got hurt. It's pretty bad. I'm taking him to the emergency room. Can you meet us there? Not how I expected my night to be. I found myself in a patient room sitting in a corner. Across from me was KazKid who cut his finger...really cut his finger. I listened to the discussions from the scrub people and nodded my head understanding that there were no broken bones, and no damage to any of the muscles. Kind of an amazing deal to know he would only need stitches after hearing the discussion about how deep that cut was. Yuck. Of course, I never actually saw the cut. If you know me, you know I don't do these situations well...or at all. I sat there and looked at Coach who was right by KazKid, explaining each step of what would be happening-pressure, needles, anesthesia, etc. I thought back to when Coach and I first met. I used to call him Coach "Snarley" instead of "Snarey" (in my head). It seemed more fitting. Appearances can be deceiving. Beneath his tough exterior, there's a big heart inside Coach. It's taken time to see just how big his heart really is. Three years ago, my older son, SeriousAthlete, begged to play football. Now that you know I have challenges with seeing people in pain, you can probably predict that I wasn't on board. Yet, we were new to the area and football seemed like a way my son could get connected. SeriousAthlete played for Coach and was a natural on the field. Until.... He broke his foot goofing around with some friends. I contacted Coach to give him the scoop that SeriousAthlete would be out for weeks until his foot healed. Coach responded with a question that stunned me: Could SeriousAthlete work out at the gym with him and some other boys? I wasn't sure about this. because I had trust issues with him. .Why would a big ol' bouncer looking guy who always had the tough-coach-look be interested in spending time training my son to lift weights and also mentoring him? Because Coach has a big heart. In the three years that I've known Coach, I've witnessed how much he cares for others...beyond his classroom walls. He works out with both my boys now and continues to keep that commitment to them. But there's even more... Over time, I've seen how he made home and hospital visits to Sami,, his middle school student who was battling cancer. Just as Sami started her chemotherapy treatments, her father lost his battle to cancer.. A hard and challenging time that left many speechless. But not Coach. He organized the Sami 5K run to raise money to help with Sami's medical expenses. He developed a strong relationship with Sami and during her sophomore year in high school, she asked him to escort her on the Homecoming Court. So deeply touched, he texted me immediately to say how much it meant for him to be asked. He did escort her proudly. Coach has a big heart and both were beaming that homecoming night. Today, the Sami 5K continues with its annual run in October. Sami is much better so Coach now selects families in the community that need financial help due to medical expenses. This year, the Sami 5K proceeds (the entire 100% of all proceeds) will go to help another one of his students whose mom has Multiple Sclerosis (MS). The George family needs financial help to cover the costs of a specialized treatment that will hopefully change the current trajectory of the mom's MS. Coach could have stopped the Sami 5k once Sami got better. He could easily stop training and mentoring young men. Coach could pull away from those situations that are uncomfortable and hard. But he doesn't. And I'm so incredibly thankful that he doesn't. Even though he intimidated me with his mean coach glares and tough demands to the football players, and big ol' bouncer physique, inside was one gigantic heart. ***Coach only allowed me to post this if I could get more folks to become sponsors or to raise money for the George family. So please, consider becoming part of Coach's team to help the George family and continue to build the tradition of the Sami 5K. Thanks =) To contribute, please check out this site: https://www.facebook.com/Run4Sami5k/ or leave a comment so I can connect you to Coach. We both traveled across the Atlantic to adopt. We both chose to bring older children into our families. We both researched and felt like we had an inkling of what to do. We both realized that we really didn't know what we were doing! But...we continued to learn, grow, and show grace to our families and especially ourselves as we embraced what it takes to adopt and mold your newest member into your family. We both knew only bits and pieces of the childhood our children had experienced in their countries. We'd take those and try to weave a story so that we could grasp what life had been like for them. Language presented huge barriers as we tried to unravel a past that was so different from what we experienced while raising our own. Years have gone by. We both moved to different states. Yet, in this very small world we live in, Cindy and I ended up living within minutes of each other again hundreds of miles from where we originally met.. Cindy and I talk about orphans and adoptions still, but it''s different now. Cindy has taken action. She acknowledges that there are 153 million orphans around the world today. That's staggering. Yes, some do find a forever home and that's about 250,000 adopted each year. So what's the problem? That leaves 152,750,000 children who are in orphanages or on the streets. You can't adopt all of them and it's mind boggling to provide financial support for that number....What could Cindy do? Transform orphan care. Taking care of the physical needs of orphans is demanding. On top of that, many orphans have to deal with abandonment issues, attachment disorders, and sexual abuse. How do caregivers care for children who have been exploited? How do you deal with all those layers of heartaches? Care givers are the ones orphans have contact with all the time. Cindy knew they were the ones she needed to pour into if she wanted change to happen. Through her organization, Cindy meets the needs of the caregivers and equips them to handle more than the daily physical needs of the orphans, Her goal? That these young children can grow and mature in an emotionally healthy way and know that they are loved...no matter what their past may feel like and look like...because the ones giving them care are overflowing with love for them. I love that Cindy wasn't content with feeling that she had cared "for the least of these" through her adoption. She wanted so much more. Not just for the ones that she had seen in the Ukranian orphanage where her youngest lived a good chunk of her childhood but for orphans all over the world. My sweet friend is running hard after her passion to care for orphans. Over and over, she has shown me that lives that appear to be a tangled mess of threads with knots and frayed ends can be turned into a beautiful tapestry pieced together with love,..It just takes action to make that happen. http://cindyfinley.com/rivercross/ Sometimes people walk into our lives and nothing changes. However, there are those rare special times when someone enters our world and everything changes.
And so it was with Riley. At the end of summer, I carried my fresh off the press roster to my classroom with much eagerness. Gradually, a crowd of teachers gathered around reading the names off my list. Over and over, I heard "Oh, you have Riley!" and "That's perfect that you got Riley!" I hadn't even met the kid but it was obvious that she had made quite the impression on many at my school. And then I met Riley, a one-of-a-kind kid with a very unique story. You see, Riley is a fighter. She had to become one early in life because she hit some major bumps and obstacles. At one point, she lived in a hospital for 9 months, pushing through 17 surgeries with 66 cubic units of blood being pumped into her small frame to help her. out. She continues the fight. But she doesn't want people to feel sorry for her. In fact, she does the opposite. She would walk into my room with a huge smile and a bounce in her step. Although she continued to seek medical advice for annoying health issues, her smile and bounce were always present each day. I strongly believe her incredibly positive attitude came from her family and her friends that support her every step of her crazy, uphill journey. I guess I shouldn't say "believe"...I know. After spending time with them for a year, they are Riley's greatest fan club, cheering and supporting her through it all. Riley forever changed me as a teacher. As her parents snapped the First Day of School photo, I realized the significance of me jumping into a race they were in. I took the baton during the daytime school hours and made a silent promise to myself to make each day the best day it could possibly be for Riley and the rest of our class. I tried to never take each day for granted and saw it through the eyes of Riley and her parents: that each day is truly a blessing. May we all learn a lesson from Riley, a kid full of spunk and love:: Each day is a precious gift. Make today the best day ever.. It seemed like it was taking forever to sell our home. But then one beautiful, glorious Saturday morning, my realtor called with multiple offers on the table. The best one was obvious. Asking price, taking possession as is, and a lovely, heartfelt letter to me. There was one itty bitty glitch: we had to be out in 14 days. 14 days. 14 days to pack up four kids, myself, and all our stuff. I considered it carefully and knew I could swing it even if it took 14 sleepless nights. But where would we go? All our possessions and a three-legged cat named Tripod and two turtles? Enter the Sheets family. They opened up their home to us, but they did so much more than that.*** They gave me a glimpse of what family looks like with all 9 (gulp!) of their children. Yep, you read that right. 9 kids. And two adorable grandkids that actually were about the ages of the the last two of the nine. They lived out what a Christian family could look like. True...it did feel like a three ring circus with all the activity, but there was a precious rhythm to their chaos. Upon entering the home of the Sheets, you sense the difference. As a friend of the Sheets family shared with me: "Amy, you could be having a party with 50 people downstairs in the basement* and they probably wouldn't notice. If they did, they would join in!" It was true. So very true. I could pen a novel about "Life with the Sheets" and I might. Here a couple of takeaways that will always remain with my kids and me: It's totally ok to shove all the furniture for a tv show or movie even if the rearrangement of furniture could scratch hardwoods..The crowd would gather,and there would be endless pushing of chairs and sofas. Being comfy and having a good view of the screen is a priority. But being together is most important. .Even if your dog knocks over the crock pot on the kitchen counter and turns the stove on in the process, igniting a fire, you don't get too upset. Even if it happens twice. The melted pot can be replaced and the odd odors will eventually diminish. Messes happen especially with a big family so there's really no need to get upset....just stop the fire and keep on going. There was a father-son football bowl occurring the first weekend after meeting my boys, Mr. Sheets asked my sons to join his team. A kind offer goes a long way and is a great way to start a friendship. Mrs. Sheets shared that just after getting married, she found a stranger's clothing left on her bathroom floor. When she inquired, her husband said he had picked up a homeless man and allowed him the privilege of taking a shower. Always be willing to share what you have and live your faith out in action as you love others. After going through a time of trauma, I found rest in their household. Ok. "Rest" can be defined in a couple of ways. The Sheets house was full of activity and buzzing with noise at all times, but I did find peace in all that. I'd find myself sitting at the kitchen counter chatting about life stuff while two little guys scrambled up to the counter to fix their own food, while a high school student stressed about ACT and SAT scores and prom, while one of the older kids strolled in to share the gender of the next new grandchild to enter the family....there was "rest" in all that. I loved being a part of their family and was shown the importance of supporting each person in each season of life...no matter if that season was a good one or a bad one...always be there for them. While we lived there for just six months, I took in a lot. No matter how many books I had on my shelf about how to parent and raise kids, nothing compared to the knowledge I gained during our stay with the Sheets. They put their faith into action. They helped start an organization I Am Second (http://www.iamsecond.com/), placing God and others first and yourself as second. My family is incredibly blessed that we got to see the Sheets live this out daily. Every couple of days, one of us comments, "Remember when the Sheets did this?..." Life with the Sheets taught me many things but most importantly, to love God, your kids, and family, to laugh with them, and to hold on tight to them no matter what the circumstances. ***At one point, I prayed:" Lord, please let me be treated like a princess. Life is hard. ". When I drove up to the Sheets house, the first thing I noticed were the turrets (yep, like as in a castle). I knew God wanted us to be there. Thank you, God. Thank you, Sheets family! If you were asked to describe what makes a good friend, what strikes you first? Sense of humor? Honesty? Stick-with-it-ness even in those tough times that friendships can endure? For me, it's all of the above. Last weekend, my kids sent me on a crazy adventure to celebrate my birthday. I ended up getting off a train in Charlotte and was greeted with balloons and big smiles from two of my closest friends, Meredith and Julie. The three of us have been friends ever since we left Chapel Thrill. We didn't cross paths at UNC but my RA friend (Todd the RA) suggested that I meet them. I did and the rest is history. Meredith and I did Young Life together. I was always the crazy, loud leader, and she was the quiet, calm leader. We went on to be roommies and I drove her nuts by making her stay up way past her bedtime, sharing our dreams, playing jokes on each other, and asking tough questions Julie came to Charlotte searching for a teaching position. After knowing her a couple of years, I convinced my principal to let us co-teach and then I left my class to her so that I could have my first child (the Oldest). As time went on, we shared play dates with our kids and openly chatted about the struggles of being a mom and trying desperately to raise them in the way they should go. Although I moved away from Charlotte, our friendships remained. It's one of those that you can pick up no matter where you are and no matter how much time has gone by since you've last talked with each other. At one of my lowest points, the two of them flew to see me in Tennessee. Both had never been to Nash-Vegas, but they weren't interested in seeing the big lights and sounds. In fact, they did the unthinkable: they cleaned my home, shopped for groceries to pack my cupboards, and prepared meals for the kids and me. Meredith and Julie are great models for what a friend is. Not only have they demonstrated this to me through the years, but my four kiddos have seen our friendship stay strong and how friends are always there for each other. Michael W. Smith had it right when he wrote these words back in the 80's: We'll keep you close as always It won't even seem you've gone 'Cause our hearts in big and small ways Will keep the love that keeps us strong And friends are friends forever If the Lord's the Lord of them And a friend will not say never 'Cause the welcome will not end Though it's hard to let you go In the Father's hands we know That a lifetime's not too long To live as friends No a lifetime's not too long To live as friends "Mighty hot outside, don't you think? You from around here?," came a southern drawl from the chair on my left I nodded and commented that I've lived here almost 3 years. Not wanting to strike up a conversation, I gave a quick smile and pretended I was distracted with something going on in the nail salon. I didn't wish to continue the dialogue because I had declared today a day of "no talking". During the week, I got slammed with some sickness that made my throat hurt, really hurt. Whispering was painful. After trying to manage my classroom full of 22 little people the last days of school, my voice had almost completely disappeared. I needed a day off from talking.(and taking care of all in my family who have been plagued lately-walking pneumonia, ear infection, pink eye, sinus infection....one big ol' petri dish of germs over here!)...so I looked around as I got my pedicure, totally glancing away from the older lady on my left. She continued chatting: "I've lived here 40 years so I guess you'd call this home for me. I have two sons and one granddaughter. But I hardly ever see them. They stay so busy. You know how that is." Her eyes framed by her red circle glasses looked back in my direction awaiting a response. Preferring to preserve my voice, I just said, "Yep, everyone stays busy." I looked back at my toes deep in the blue sudsy water. It was then I heard that same southern drawl speaking to the man massaging her feet: "No, I don't need a manicure. I came in earlier this week and got one. First time my nails have grown since my time with breast cancer." Awkward moment since the salon guy couldn't understand English. Her words hit me with a thud. I felt that yuck of selfishness in me. Here I was avoiding the lady beside me...but she obviously wanted a person to talk to. I caved. I started with a couple of questions. Those led to a delightful hour of sharing about our kids. As so often happens, we found our "common". We learned that both of our oldest children are in overseas ministry. Her oldest works in Kenya, mine in Haiti. We laughed and shared more and more. As she left me, she grabbed my hand and wouldn't let go, squeezing it tightly. Just one of those chance meetings? I truly don't think so. So, if you happen to run into a lady with red circled glass frames with beautifully painted fingernails and toenails, be sure you stop to chat. She's a gem, an absolute gem. . One of my favorite Pixar scenes is when Toy Story's Buzz and Woody team together once again to handle a situation. Woody's expression is priceless: perplexed eyes wide open full of anticipation and jiggling cheeks as Buzz figures out a way to pick up speed. Woody is left to hold on tight for the ride of his life! I totally relate to Woody and feel I look like this much of the time: always trying to hang on tightly as the roller coaster of life accelerates and slows down with hidden bumps that seem to come out of nowhere. But I'm being about intentional about changing that...now. In a few weeks, I turn that number that is equal to half a century. I can't even say that number because it makes me feel like I need to start looking for fuzzy tennis balls to put on a walker. Sigh. I should be thankful that I've reached this milestone but the sound of that number makes me cringe. So...I decided to do something about it. Instead of bashing that number, I'm embracing it with a purpose. This summer, I plan to get together with 50 people who have had an influence on my life. I want to be intentional and thank them for how they poured into me or how they modeled what my life could look like. Too often, I've been the "Woody", holding on tightly with big eyes anticipating the hurdles in this race. Now, I want to pause and let others know that I appreciate them in so many different ways as they partnered with me in life. This summer, I'll be sharing some of the stories with you. I can't wait! I've met some amazing people who made me a better person. Now, it's my turn to slow down and be intentional to thank them for what they've done in my life and hopefully, you'll be encouraged and inspired after "meeting" them. From Toy Story: You've got a friend in me You've got a friend in me You got troubles and I got 'em too There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you We stick together, we can see it through 'Cause you've got a friend in me You've got a friend in me I can see the finish line! Funny. From mid-July to mid-August, I'm all about preparing bulletin boards, creating lessons from Pinterest ideas, collaborating with my most awesome grade level team, and getting those teacher jitters before meeting my students and their families. Then, May hits. I'm dragging my feet. Plop...plop...plop. Just trying to pencil enough lesson ideas that can carry me through the day. Teachers are in "get-it-done-mode". All the testing, final ceremonies, extra programs, and parent conferences are wrapping up our year. I see "the deer in the headlights" look on all the faces of my teachers: the brand new ones and the ones who are more experienced. =) When I slow down and simply exhale, I take in a year's worth of memories I'd never trade. This particular year stretched me in areas that I didn't even know existed. I was given 22 students. Some had "labels". Others didn't. But they all needed to be known and to be loved and taught in their own way. It was a year in which I had to figure out how to reach each child like never before. Some didn't like to be hugged or touched. Some could not make eye contact. Some couldn't keep their hands still for even...one...second. Some never sat in a chair the whole year (I'm not kidding!) .Some could easily name multiplication facts but couldn't name the children in the classroom. Some rarely talked. In the fall, a friend posted the following on her Instagram account. Instead of "Halloween", I wish it said "In life": With Halloween upon us, please keep in mind, a lot of little people will be visiting your home. Be accepting. The child who is grabbing more than one piece of candy may have poor fine motor skills. The child who takes forever to pick out one piece of candy may have motor planning issues. The child who does not say trick or treat or thank you may be non-verbal. The child who looks disappointed when they see your bowl might have an allergy. The child who isn't wearing a costume at all might have a sensory issue (SPD) or autism. Be nice. Be patient. It's everyone's Halloween.. The words that grabbed me in the fall? Be accepting. I stretched. Be nice. I stretched some more. Be patient. I stretched until I almost popped. But it's been a good kind of stretching. I'm very proud of these stretch marks and I'll remember this year as the one that made me a much better teacher, friend, and person. |
AuthorFun-loving mom to 4 kids and 1 big puppy. Fifth grade teacher of amazing little people who have never ending things to share with me. Love to discuss Jesus, diy projects, and life. Trying to keep it simple: Love Jesus, love people. Archives
December 2021
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