Sunday, November 25, 2012

The First of Many Firsts

Mom, Walter and Oreo just drove away after a wonderful Thanksgiving holiday.  We couldn't ask for a better visit with the cousins as we adjust to the absence of our "12th Man".  (Sorry Aggie fans!  We've always been a group of 12 and several occasions this holiday kept us recounting the number of our immediate family.)  There were many times when I thought, "Dad would LOVE this", including his teenage grandkids up until nearly 2:00 every night having a ball together.  He would have been in the middle of the action for sure.  Still, there were other times when I know Dad would have had a fit.  Our late arrival to a family Thanksgiving gathering gave us a good laugh!  We were responsible for "kid drinks" and we showed up with hot, GENERIC sodas, a cooler and some ice.  This would not have been tolerated!  We had to enjoy the lack of stress surrounding our failure.  While the grandkids loved every minute of their time together, we received several comments from our girls, "This is boring."  When we responded with how relaxing it was, someone came back with, "Way too relaxing!"  Dad kept them moving, sugared up and generally unattached to hand held devices.  We allowed them to be sedentary and we put no limits on time with eyes locked to multiple forms of technology.  I tried very hard to surround the grandkids with "reminders of Grandpa", but found it painfully obvious, while drinking a Bloody Mary, that these fun things and memories don't capture the essence of his strong presence in our midst.  There was a gaping hole.  Dad would be so proud of Mom as she continues her loving role in the family with strength, perseverance and grace.  We are so thankful for the blessing she is to all of us and we are grateful for such an enjoyable and comforting Thanksgiving surrounded by family. 

Sunday, November 18, 2012

Missing Zambia

Four months after my return from Lusaka, Zambia, the vivid images are fading and and the ache in my gut is nearly gone.  This kills me!  While being surrounded by so many "1st world problems" (no i-phone, limits on use of make-up, sisters borrowing clothing) I find myself longing for that land and for some interaction with my joyful, content and generous Zambian friends.   I'm praying for an opportunity to return to the schools of Lusaka, but I'm becoming convinced that 2013 is not the time for our family.  Two days ago, I brought home over 100 books from our book fair (purchased with funds raised by students and families from Ridgeview Elementary) to ship on a crate to Africa.  It hit me that I will not be able to see the reaction of the children as they enjoy this blessing and luxury next summer and I will NEVER forget the beautiful faces of the students, who seemed as if they were in a trance, while listening to stories being read aloud.  I'm certain these books will enrich their classrooms for many years and I look forward to reading aloud to them again some day! 

Friday, November 9, 2012

Greatness Points to the Lord

As our family anticipates the upcoming debut of the movie Les Miserables, I'm struck with the anticipation of something wonderful, almost other worldly, like this story coming to film.  So much of life in this world is surrounded by an infatuation or awe with things that amaze and inspire us.  This hits home each day while driving east to work during the splendor of the morning sunrise and then driving west with a display of a glorious sunset.  I'm convinced that greatness directs my eyes to God and beyond this world.  Quite often, life includes endurance and forbearance (grit and humility).   Yet, there are these sign posts each day that remind us that this world is not the "end-all-be-all" and that there is greatness, beauty and peace beyond our imagination in Christ our Lord.



"That you may know.......what is the immeasurable greatness of his power toward us who believe, according to the working of his great might that he worked in Christ when he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly places, far above all rule and authority and power and dominion, and above every name that is named, not only in this age but also in the one to come.  And he put all things under his feet and gave him as head over all things to the church, which is his body, the fullness of him who fills all in all."  Ephesians 1: 19-23


Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Despair, Hope and Heaven

The crystal clear skies and the glorious weather gives more opportunity and motivation for collecting my thoughts and writing about the experience of traveling down the road of deep sadness.  This evening I took a typical walk at sunset, but there was an extra bounce in my step as I was struck by the reality of such incredible beauty in the midst of horrid and incomprehensible sights and experiences.   So much of what I've seen in the recent months has left me completely dumbfounded.  Three months ago, I rode on a bus in Zambia and stared out the window in stunned and profoundly sad silence.  We drove away from a compound where we met hundreds of the most BEAUTIFUL children who go without food, water, warmth, beds and parental care each day.  How do you make sense of that?  Two months ago, I watched my father take his final breaths and leave this world just a few weeks after climbing to the peak of a mountain with him.  As Dad completed his last climb, he cheered on the other hikers and he was at the top of his game.   It didn't seem possible for him to be unconscious and unable to order us around as we tried to grasp the enormity of losing him before our eyes.  As the fog of a "grin and bear it season" clears, writing seems to be a way to make sense of seemingly senseless circumstances.  Since the teen years, my faith has been an anchor and my love affair with this world ended when I became a Christian 25 years ago.  Still, this abiding faith takes on a whole new light as I increasingly despair of the brokenness of the world.  While enjoying the glory of a picture perfect night, I was reminded of the reality and hope of our permanent home in heaven where there is no death, sadness, hunger or destruction.   Such a brief glimpse of eternity lifts my eyes off of present sorrow and encourages my soul greatly!

Thursday, October 25, 2012

The Little Engine that Couldn't

While reflecting on the last few months, I'm struck with the body's response  to stress and grief  and the contrast of reaction when finding relief.  It's as if you could walk on water when the weight is removed.  For the first time in decades, I've physically felt anxiety in new ways.  Images of "The Little Engine That Could" come to mind.  I'm not implying an extraordinary ability, just communicating the weight of a heavy load that was unfamiliar to me.  (Come to find out teenagers don't have a pause button as you come to the end of yourself.)  Honestly,  there is no pause button for any of life.  Fast food servers still bark at you.   Families are still disfunctional, even in the saddest of times.  Still, another thought about the Little Engine comes to mind.  While the book leads us to believe in our ability to overcome and challenge ourselves, I can only relate with the part of a burden weighing me down heavily while continuing on the path ahead.  I'm thankful for the overwhelming support, most especially the Lord Jesus, pushing me each day and even carrying the burden for me as I kept going.  Friends and family have cheered my weary spirits and run along with me while my gaze has often been downcast and defeated.  I've felt the weakness of my flesh like never before and have relied on the loving kindness of others in countless ways.  Now we're on the downhill side of things and thankful for the lighter, easier load as we travel around an always uncertain, eventful, yet hopeful, bend.  Thank you, dear friends, for carrying my burden for me.  Here's to another Friday and cooler weather in the forecast.

"If the LORD had not been my help, my soul would soon have lived in the land of silence.  When I thought, "My foot slips," your steadfast love, O LORD, held me up. "  Psalm 94: 17-18

Sunday, October 21, 2012

The Lord Provides

One day at a time rings true around here these days.  If you told me last Sunday that I would celebrate my daughter's 13th birthday, complete my 6 hour GT update, go to a math training, work with all reading groups several times, get my classroom organized and overdue laminating finished, complete lesson plans early, be out 2 days with a stomach bug and visit my husband in the hospital all before the next Sunday, I would have laughed at you.  Actually, if you told me on January 1st that the Lord would change my life in Zambia, I would lose my father, speak at his service and that I would miss the first days of school and have the most perfect class of students in the fall, you would have gotten a similar reaction of disbelief.  All I can say in response to the events of 2012,  combined with joy, laughter, tears and deep sorrow, is that the Lord is faithful!  During the few days I was home from Zambia, before vacation and my father's accident, the Lord enabled me to recount my experience in Africa through writing with clarity and passion before the confusion of the fall hit me.  Given a brief window and opening in the schedule, I was given the opportunity to share that experience with my church family during a most stressful and sad time.  This was a welcome occasion due to the providence of already having the talk ready to go.  Also, upon arriving home from vacation, before unexpectedly returning to Colorado, the Lord allowed me to get nearly all my ducks in a row for beginning the school year.  Just this weekend, I am grateful for His perfect timing of my recovery from a stomach bug only 5 hours before Kyle began having intense pain in his abdomen which led to him being admitted to the hospital.   The Lord has never given me more than I could bear and He has provided all the necessary support at just the right moments.  While my gut aches deeply as I remember and long for my Dad and my eyes are quick to fill with tears at the simplest of triggers (yesterday it was a gentleman ordering vodka at the ballet and requesting Grey Goose-Dad's favorite), my heart and soul remain steadfast in the Lord's keeping.  Even as I'm anxious about upcoming classroom evaluations and feel like I'm doing the impossible yet most satisfying job of a teacher, I'm confident in the Lord's provision for each day.  So, I simply step out of bed each morning and do the next thing.  Speaking of that, I must get to the next thing and get back to the hospital. 

"Humble yourselves, therefore, under God's mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time.  Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you." 1 Peter 6-7

Sunday, September 23, 2012

Processing, Grieving and Teaching

The last few weeks have been overwhelming to say the least.  A group of 18 five year old children have been a constant source of joy for me!  I'm convinced I have the greatest job on earth...... so much sweetness, eagerness, potential and innocence packed into one classroom.  I'm thankful for this privilege as I grieve the loss of my Dad and consider life without him.  Even this past week, one student commented, "I hope your Dad is feeling better."  I assured her that he is all better now! Teaching has been a comfort, distraction, focus, and worthwhile task as I've reflected on childhood and Dad's influence in my life.  While there have been times when the comment, "You're just like your Dad," hit me in the wrong way, I find it to be the highest praise right now. 

In the recent months, the Lord has opened my eyes to extreme poverty, profound hopelessness and now deep sorrow.  In the midst of it all, he has shown his loving kindness to our family through his people.  My thoughts remain a jumbled/swirling mess and my dreams continue to be a wild ride that don't make sense.  Still, three things have remained constant for me:  the Lord has provided faithfully and abundantly, our family has been knit together stronger than ever and my students have shown up each day ready for the exciting prospect of learning about the world around them.  There has been no profound way to grieve.  The simple task of waking up and starting the day has been a meaningful process of healing for me!  I'm excited to begin another week with my precious students tomorrow.