Huh?

After being interviewed by the school administration, the prospective teacher said, "Let me see if I've got this right. You want me to go into that room with all those kids, correct their disruptive behavior, observe them for signs of abuse, monitor their dress habits, censor their T-shirt messages, and instill in them a love for learning. You want me to check their backpacks for weapons, wage war on drugs and sexually transmitted diseases, and raise their sense of self esteem and personal pride. You want me to teach them patriotism and good citizenship, sportsmanship and fair play, and how to register to vote, balance a checkbook, and apply for a job. You want me to check their heads for lice, recognize signs of antisocial behavior, and make sure that they all pass the final exams. You also want me to provide them with an equal education regardless of their handicaps, and communicate regularly with their parents in English, Spanish or any other language, by letter, telephone, newsletter, and report card. You want me to do all this with a piece of chalk, a blackboard, a bulletin board, a few books, a big smile, and a starting salary that qualifies me for food stamps. You want me to do all this and then you tell me. . I CAN'T PRAY?
- received in an email

Consider this –"If a doctor, lawyer, or dentist had 40 people in his office at one time, all of whom had different needs, and some of whom didn't want to be there and were causing trouble, and the doctor, lawyer, or dentist, without assistance, had to treat them all with professional excellence for nine months, then he might have some conception of the classroom teacher's job."
- Donald Quinn

Git 'er done

"Lord, help me do what you sent me here to do so I can go home." (Yvette's grandma, upon entering the hospital)

A thump on the head

Went to Share Group last night. I haven't been getting much out of our meetings the last few times, so I opened my heart this time. It was a good one. My eyes were opened to those I can learn from, where they were closed and non-receptive before.

We are studying Phillippians, and last night's talk was about chapter 2, verses 12-18. Paul is asking us to be "LightBearers" in a world of darkness. I immediately thought of our lunchroom conversation today about how the times for kindergarten registration got changed without letting us know, and that this happens EVERY time (Family Literacy Night!). Yeah, I did some complaining. I did lots of complaining.

Phil. 2:14-16: Do all things without complaining and disputing, that you may become blameless and harmless, children of God without fault in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation, among whom you shine as lights in the world, holding fast the word of life, so that I may rejoice in the day of Christ that I have not run in vain or labored in vain.

Oops. Then I mentioned that, even though I was complaining, I KNEW I shouldn't be, but I didn't know HOW to interject His light into the conversation. And Deb said something that should have been totally obvious to me: why don't I stop in the middle of the conversation and ask God for the right words? Let HIM be in control of my mouth - that's where I went wrong. I am not relinquishing control of my words and actions.

My Women of Faith Bible has a quote from Patsy Clairmont which should be my mantra: "Whiners neither enjoy nor give joy. But grace-filled people are reputable, sought-after, and deeply loved."

I got a thumbs up for my cooking tonight!

Yeah, it's never happened before. Oh sure, there have been comments like, "it's pretty good," and "you can fix it again, but I would (change/add/leave out) ... ". But I don't remember ever receiving, in sixteen years of marriage, a thumbs up for my cooking.

It was pretty simple. Looking through the almost-empty refrigerator (since I haven't been to the grocery for over a week), I had to throw something together with what I could scrounge. I thought of my 5-ingredient cookbook, and remembered a recipe I've made before, that we like (read: everyone will eat and not make faces at). It is sliced kielbasa cooked in apple juice, apple jelly, and maple syrup. Hmm ... no kielbasa, but we do have a package of mettwurst. No apple juice, but we have applesauce. No apple jelly, but there is apple butter. I do have syrup! So I made the necessary substitutions with some reservation (remembering the horrid pea soup incident of a week ago ... ). My concoction garnered a thumbs up from Bob, and the kids gobbled every last bit. So the "corrections" will be noted in the cookbook, and this recipe will be placed on the iPod menu list for future quick meals.