Ringing Like a Bell

I know people who are bold, courageous, and inherently tough. I know people who are humble, focused, and intuitively seem to know just what needs to be done in every situation. I know people who don't have a habit of second guessing themselves. I know people who find living and breathing in their mortal bodies effortless. I am not one of those people . When I first started writing this blog last year, I felt like I was trying to expose what's really going on with me, deep inside, the way you might pop off the back of a watch to see all the little gears and springs inside. I've got a box full of old journals in a closet right beside the desk where I'm sitting. The chief difference between what you're reading now and those journals is audience. I'm letting you see what I have to say if you want to. I just read a book called An Altar in the World: A Geography of Faith   by Barbara Brown Taylor. As I read the introduction, I found a kindred spirit, not someo...

I am always fascinated by overheard conversations. I wouldn't exactly call myself an eavesdropper, but I like it when I catch snatches of someone else's conversation. Once in Starbucks I listened to a lively debate between two women behind me -- tea vs. coffee. I was tempted to whirl around throw my arm up between them and say, "Ding, ding, ding! That's the end of round one!" I didn't, of course, believe it or not, even I have boundaries. A while back I caught a fragment of  a conversation my students were having. One said, jokingly, "What's the meaning of life?" The other said, more seriously, "Nobody knows that." Several of their peers joined in and before long one student's half-saucy remark had sparked a wildfire in my first period. As so often happens in the classroom, all of them turned toward me at once. In their eyes I'm always the 'tie-breaker' because being in charge automatically makes you right, right? (H...

String together the pearls of A thousand mornings Torn from a warm bed To clean shower Or comfort a friend A thousand more spent In leisure with warm blankets, Books, and tea. Line up the shells of many moments Spent in prayer. All that time Speaking to heaven And waiting in silence For a gentle response. Stack the essays Passed through Ink stained hands, Each one Worried over With a creased Brow and pen. Bag up the hugs of friends Wrapped round your waist -- And kisses from Those loved best And lost. Amass the heartbeats Felt on mountaintops And beside the sea. Bottle up your tears Of joy and grief From moments Forgotten and remembered. Tie up all the conversations Treasured and discarded. Spare a glimpse for those Remembered, yet Remember the past Only as it gives you pleasure. Bind all these parts with one Quick stir and Stand back to admire All the life ...

If there's ever a Lifetime movie made about my life, I'm convinced it will amount to nothing more than a chubby actress bumbling through life enduring a series of clumsy, self-inflicted accidents. Scene one : she falls off her tricycle and skins her knees. Scene two : she loses her grip on the merry-go-round and is launched into a huge puddle of red mud. Scene three : an entire montage of bike wrecks. Scene four : she knocks down an entire row of tables at McDonald's. Scene five : an entire montage of horrendous athletic accidents -- tripping, bobbling the ball, getting smacked in the face... Scene six : she falls, head first, down the bleachers. Scene seven : she loses her balance and rolls down a hill on her college campus. Scene eight : she tumbles off her stool while her students are testing. Scene nine : she slips while trout fishing and nearly breaks her arm. Last night I added a new one to the list; I fell out of the church van while Christmas caroling. ...

A few days ago, I found out that one of my close college friends unexpectedly passed away over the summer. As you can imagine, I am grieved. The more I think about it, the worse I feel. Losing him is bad enough, but not knowing about it for months makes it even worse. Thankfully, one of our  mutual friends contacted me. I find myself regretting not keeping in better touch with him for the last few years. It's not a new regret. Since I moved away from my home state, I have been troubled about the friends that have slipped off the edges of my daily life. Distance separates us, and there never seems to be enough -- enough time, energy, or opportunity -- to keep those relationships healthy.  Deep down it feels like a personal failing because I genuinely love my friends. I want to know all about them and their lives. I want them to know how important they are to me. I also don't think I'm alone in this. The globe has gotten pretty small, and we spend differ...

A bunch of vultures has been circling around our school. I'm not sure how long they've been there, but I noticed them a week or two ago. Out here in our rural area, we see buzzards sometimes. They eat roadkill, which is helpful, so seeing them isn't that strange. However, I initially noticed this group because there were so many of them. I mentioned it to my husband one morning on the phone. I even counted them -- there were at least twenty. I expected it to be a random, one day occurrence, but they're still out there. This afternoon they'd broken into two groups, each one circling around a different end of campus. I've mentioned their appearance to other people, and they've noticed them too. About an hour and a half ago, three things happened at once. I thought about those vultures, the lights in my classroom switched off (we have power-saving motion sensors in our classrooms.), and I watched this YouTube video. *It has one, slightly offensive word i...

I end up focusing on a quote or motto every year. I don't plan it. It happens organically. Like many other people who work serving others, it takes a lot to keep me going. I don't do my job for money or fame, so my motivation has to come from somewhere else. It's the same for other teachers, nurses, customer service representatives, or anybody else that spends lots of time helping other people. The first year I taught, it was Philippians 4:13, "I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me," for obvious reasons. Yep, that year was quite a challenge, but whatdaya know -- Christ did strengthen me, and I made it through. A few years later, it ended up being a quote by this lady named Lorie Keene, " Whether we are biological mothers or not, each of us has been given a special gift as a woman that   can be used to love, cherish, encourage, and nurture the children God places in our circle of influence ." I've already written about that yea...

We call my sister the baby whisperer . From the time that she was big and strong enough to carry around a baby, she's been unstoppable. She loves them. They love her.  Got a fussy baby? Hand it to my sister, and she'll have him calmed down in less than five minutes. She knows how to handle teething, bathing, diaper changing, and I can't ever remember her learning how to do it. She has a gift; she intuitively knows what an infant needs. Children under the age of five are inexplicably drawn to my sister. She's in college and works at a big chain store part time. She's told me stories about toddlers making their way to her no matter where she is in the store. They talk to her, show her things, and tell her stories. As I'm sure you can imagine, she's a wonderful aunt to all our nieces and nephews. She's the first person each one joyfully seeks out upon arrival at family gatherings. She isn't a mother yet, but there's no doubt she'll be quit...

"Do you know where my mama's at?" Apparently this is the quote I was known for when I was just barely old enough to talk, for good reason. I have had this lifelong anxiety about being separated from my family. I've always felt completely confident to go anywhere or do anything as long as there's a family member with me. I'll bet there's a 'phobia' just for this. I'm googling it right now. *Cue annoying elevator music.* Wow. Okay, here's a direct quote from childrenshospital.org: "Many kids struggle with a specific fear of being physically separated from their parents or other family members. This is known as separation anxiety disorder (SAD) ." That's it! That's exactly how I've always felt. I don't really know why. I've thought about it a lot.  Maybe it's because I'm essentially a shy person, an introvert. I know some of you are snorting with laughter right now because you're thinking the...

My mom called us all into the kitchen and lined us up in front of the sink. She was holding a stack of plastic cups in her hand. They were the colorful plastic ones we kids used. "I want to know who did this, " she was borderline hysterical. I'm sure on some days she would have rather been stuck with four cannibals than with four kids under the age of twelve. "I want to know so one day when I write a book, I can put the offender's name down." She held out the cups, and each one had a slice in it -- right down the side. Every single plastic cup in our kitchen was ruined.  I will tell you now that I didn't do it. That's what I told my mom; my three siblings also denied any culpability. All of us then turned to my brother, next in birth order after me. It was just the sort of thing he would do. He was forever trapping bugs outside and setting them loose in the house, mixing beverages in the kitchen, taking apart applicances to see how they worked, o...