Honesty
8 years ago
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Book Talk
For all of those interested in hearing a book talk on the book from this year's classroom drama, Borders books at Broadway and Wilmot (in Park Place Mall) will be hosting a PhD to speak on James Baldwin and Another Country. This book talk will take place next Wednesday evening, November 5th, at 7 pm. While there is no connection to my situation, I am excited to hear the thoughts of a literary scholar on this novel. I'll be there and hopefully those who are interested about hearing the literary merits of this novel will join me. It should be a nerdy good time. :-)
10 Things...
...you may not know about me:
1) I like to do things right the first time so I don't have to do them again.
2) I only brush my teeth once a day because my husband says we can become immune to toothpaste.
3) I cried when we traded some of my favorite players away from the Diamondbacks.
4) I can sleep for long periods of time at night, but naps are really out of the question.
5) I like to clean as I cook. I hate leaving a bigger mess for me to clean up at the end of the meal.
6) My greatest fear is that I will be abandoned.
7) I detest running errands alone--I would much prefer to drag someone with me through my misery.
8) I freak out anytime I'm a passenger in the car with someone who waits until the last minute to put on the brakes.
9) I have to clean and organize my classroom and desk everyday before I leave. It gives me a sense of sanity.
10) I am physically incapable of "speed reading". I have to take in all of the words and nuances of a book--there's no other way for me to appreciate it.
1) I like to do things right the first time so I don't have to do them again.
2) I only brush my teeth once a day because my husband says we can become immune to toothpaste.
3) I cried when we traded some of my favorite players away from the Diamondbacks.
4) I can sleep for long periods of time at night, but naps are really out of the question.
5) I like to clean as I cook. I hate leaving a bigger mess for me to clean up at the end of the meal.
6) My greatest fear is that I will be abandoned.
7) I detest running errands alone--I would much prefer to drag someone with me through my misery.
8) I freak out anytime I'm a passenger in the car with someone who waits until the last minute to put on the brakes.
9) I have to clean and organize my classroom and desk everyday before I leave. It gives me a sense of sanity.
10) I am physically incapable of "speed reading". I have to take in all of the words and nuances of a book--there's no other way for me to appreciate it.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Smarts?
I've been feeling lately like I have very little to offer my students. I feel very much like they don't respect me because they think they're smarter than me and have no need for my knowledge. I have never worked with honors kids before and have not really faced this kind of problem. And it is a problem. If my students believe they don't need me or that I'm not teaching them anything than how will they grow? They won't. And how do they learn in class? They don't.
I have a friend who says she spends the first quarter of Freshman Honors English breaking kids' egos down, and I didn't quite understand what she meant until now. I have no idea how to do this. It's generally not how I teach. The whole situation has left me confused and discouraged. Until this morning...
I woke up to find an email from my mom speaking my language, movie quotes. She found the conversation between Robin Williams and Matt Damon in Good Will Hunting and sent it to me. The conversation deals with some of the very same struggles I'm having and just really encouraged me. I'm by no means as experienced as Robin Williams, a man of 50 years, but I have lived more life than my students. There is a reason they've hired me and trust me with these kids in my classroom. Not to mention that I hope what I have to offer these kids is more than knowledge. More than the ability to "analyze literature." I hope I offer these kids love and grace and an opportunity to know more about themselves and others. I could keep trying to explain the logic, but I'd rather the quotes just speak for themselves. So here goes (warning: there is explicit language below):
Sean: I thought about what you said to me the other day, about my painting. I stayed up half the night thinking about it. Something occurred to me. I fell into a deep peaceful sleep. I haven't thought about you since. Do you know what occurred to me? You're just a kid. You don't have the faintest idea what you're talking about.
Sean: So, if I asked you about art you'd probably give me the skinny on every art book ever written. Michaelangelo, you know allot about him. Life's work, political aspirations, him and the Pope, sexual orientation, the whole works, right? But I bet you can't tell me what it smells like in the Sistine Chapel. You've never actually stood there, and looked at that beautiful ceiling.
Sean: If I ask you about women. You would probably give me a syllabus of your personal favorites. You may have even been laid a few times. But you can't tell me what it feels like to wake up next to a woman and feel truly happy. You're a tough kid. If I was to ask you about war you'd probably throw Shakespeare at me, right? Once more into the breech dear friends. But you've never been near one. You've never held your best friend's head in your lap, and watch him gasp his last breath looking to you for help.
Sean: Personally, I don't give shit about all that. Because you know what? I can't learn anything from you I can't read in some fucking book. Unless you want to talk about you. Who you are. Then I'm fascinated. I'm in. But you don't want to do that, do you sport? You're terrified of what you might say. Your move chief.
I have a friend who says she spends the first quarter of Freshman Honors English breaking kids' egos down, and I didn't quite understand what she meant until now. I have no idea how to do this. It's generally not how I teach. The whole situation has left me confused and discouraged. Until this morning...
I woke up to find an email from my mom speaking my language, movie quotes. She found the conversation between Robin Williams and Matt Damon in Good Will Hunting and sent it to me. The conversation deals with some of the very same struggles I'm having and just really encouraged me. I'm by no means as experienced as Robin Williams, a man of 50 years, but I have lived more life than my students. There is a reason they've hired me and trust me with these kids in my classroom. Not to mention that I hope what I have to offer these kids is more than knowledge. More than the ability to "analyze literature." I hope I offer these kids love and grace and an opportunity to know more about themselves and others. I could keep trying to explain the logic, but I'd rather the quotes just speak for themselves. So here goes (warning: there is explicit language below):
Sean: I thought about what you said to me the other day, about my painting. I stayed up half the night thinking about it. Something occurred to me. I fell into a deep peaceful sleep. I haven't thought about you since. Do you know what occurred to me? You're just a kid. You don't have the faintest idea what you're talking about.
Sean: So, if I asked you about art you'd probably give me the skinny on every art book ever written. Michaelangelo, you know allot about him. Life's work, political aspirations, him and the Pope, sexual orientation, the whole works, right? But I bet you can't tell me what it smells like in the Sistine Chapel. You've never actually stood there, and looked at that beautiful ceiling.
Sean: If I ask you about women. You would probably give me a syllabus of your personal favorites. You may have even been laid a few times. But you can't tell me what it feels like to wake up next to a woman and feel truly happy. You're a tough kid. If I was to ask you about war you'd probably throw Shakespeare at me, right? Once more into the breech dear friends. But you've never been near one. You've never held your best friend's head in your lap, and watch him gasp his last breath looking to you for help.
Sean: Personally, I don't give shit about all that. Because you know what? I can't learn anything from you I can't read in some fucking book. Unless you want to talk about you. Who you are. Then I'm fascinated. I'm in. But you don't want to do that, do you sport? You're terrified of what you might say. Your move chief.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Failure
"He who has never failed somewhere, that man cannot be great. Failure is the test of greatness." ~Herman Melville
How profound! Without failure, how can we know success? How can we learn? How can we be encouraged by others? by God? One of my greatest frustrations with students is their paralyzing fear of failure. They will not raise their hands, venture an answer, try something new, for fear of failure. Somewhere along the way our school system, or their parents, or both have taught them that school is about getting the A. Learning is a secondary result, and getting the A definitely doesn't involve failure. I resorted to not calling it failure because that's what F stands for, right? I call it any other euphemism I can think of--attempted success, risk, courage, stumble, areas of growth--but nothing can shake the stigma they feel with trying and finding themselves unsuccessful.
I've tried to model this in the classroom. Own up to ideas that I thought would work and fell flat on their face. Or making a mistake, owning up to it with the promise to do it better next time. But what I've realized is that I'm not that much better. In general I'm not afraid to take risks in the classroom, but I think it's because I believe I'll still be loved and cared for if I fall flat on my face. I hope I create that same environment for kids, but I'm not sure that's enough to untrain them. This year, however, I do not feel like my failures are met with laughter and gentleness. The AP and honors kids are a much harsher crowd with higher expectations. This isn't true of all of them, but the general feeling I get from these kids is that failure is not an option. It is a mantra they live by, and thus it is a standard they hold me to as well.
I realized this weekend that I have been walking on eggshells, living in that fear of failure and shame in front of these kids. In the times I've tried to own mistakes I feel glared down or not smart enough to offer them education. In fairness, I've allowed them to have that power over me. I've given them the chance to glare at my failures and imperfections instead of creating a space where failure is growth. I've decided that this ends right now. I will continue to own my failures and imperfections, it's part of who I am. I can't live in hiding, and I can't teach in hiding. If I'm going to learn as a teacher, and if they are going to grow as students, then we are all going to embrace the falling, the scraping of our knees and the wiping ourselves off and getting back up again. We're going to do it together, and I'm going to drag them kicking and screaming. We are going to accept our failures and move forward. That's how greatness happens, for all of us.
How profound! Without failure, how can we know success? How can we learn? How can we be encouraged by others? by God? One of my greatest frustrations with students is their paralyzing fear of failure. They will not raise their hands, venture an answer, try something new, for fear of failure. Somewhere along the way our school system, or their parents, or both have taught them that school is about getting the A. Learning is a secondary result, and getting the A definitely doesn't involve failure. I resorted to not calling it failure because that's what F stands for, right? I call it any other euphemism I can think of--attempted success, risk, courage, stumble, areas of growth--but nothing can shake the stigma they feel with trying and finding themselves unsuccessful.
I've tried to model this in the classroom. Own up to ideas that I thought would work and fell flat on their face. Or making a mistake, owning up to it with the promise to do it better next time. But what I've realized is that I'm not that much better. In general I'm not afraid to take risks in the classroom, but I think it's because I believe I'll still be loved and cared for if I fall flat on my face. I hope I create that same environment for kids, but I'm not sure that's enough to untrain them. This year, however, I do not feel like my failures are met with laughter and gentleness. The AP and honors kids are a much harsher crowd with higher expectations. This isn't true of all of them, but the general feeling I get from these kids is that failure is not an option. It is a mantra they live by, and thus it is a standard they hold me to as well.
I realized this weekend that I have been walking on eggshells, living in that fear of failure and shame in front of these kids. In the times I've tried to own mistakes I feel glared down or not smart enough to offer them education. In fairness, I've allowed them to have that power over me. I've given them the chance to glare at my failures and imperfections instead of creating a space where failure is growth. I've decided that this ends right now. I will continue to own my failures and imperfections, it's part of who I am. I can't live in hiding, and I can't teach in hiding. If I'm going to learn as a teacher, and if they are going to grow as students, then we are all going to embrace the falling, the scraping of our knees and the wiping ourselves off and getting back up again. We're going to do it together, and I'm going to drag them kicking and screaming. We are going to accept our failures and move forward. That's how greatness happens, for all of us.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Say 8 or rather Say Chest Pain
"Say 8" is one of the many jokes from Brian Regan's bit about going to the emergency room that kept me company in my own journey to the emergency room yesterday. Yes, you read that right. I spent 5.5 hours in the emergency room yesterday because I started having chest pain. Don't freak out! Apparently these are the magic words that strike fear into the hearts of loved ones, and these are the words that rush you right through the waiting room at the ER. I wish I had known this all along; I've spent countless hours in the waiting room of the ER wishing for a Fast Pass, but those are other stories.
I woke up yesterday with the lingering chest pain from the night before. I worked out because yes, I am that crazy, and then decided to look on WebMD for ideas as to what might be causing the problem. Every single thing associated with chest pain urged me to see a health care professional immediately. This thoroughly annoyed me. I didn't want my day to be inconvenienced because of some stupid chest pain (indeed this is the statement of my mother's daughter!) Initially I thought I'd try to get in to my GP or go to urgent care so I could make it to 2nd or 3rd hour to teach. I called my principal and he encouraged me not to come. Good thing because my GP said "we send all chest pain to the ER" and 6 hours later I was leaving the ER. So no school for Katie yesterday.
Driving to the ER was a "pleasant drive" and when I got to the hospital I saw that they had valet parking. Brian would be so proud! If there's ever a place that needs valet parking, this is it! But there was no attendant standing outside! So I tried to find the ER to park and enter. I circled the hospital for 10 minutes trying to find the ER! I really think they need better sign-age for a place like that. A big blinking red sign would be amazing, with a bunch of little signs pointing from every direction to the ER seems quite logical. Luckily I found it without "imploding."
So I walked into the ER and I was a bit relieved they didn't ask me "what seems to be the problem?" or I may have started laughing right then and there. After taking my vitals and hearing the words chest pain, they sent me right to triage. While in triage a 70 year-old man came in with chest pain, and the nurse who was training a new nurse explained that you don't triage a 70 year-old man with chest pain, you just send him right in, but if it were a 20 year-old they'd check him out first. Then she picked up my chart and said "Classic example!" She asked me some questions, one of which was "How would you rate your pain?" With a straight face, which was really hard thanks to Brian, I said 5. I couldn't say 8 because I was willing to work out with the pain, so I figured that wasn't an 8. They sent me right to a bed, put me in one of those awful gowns, and I waited for Herb to arrive. While I wasn't dying, I apparently scarred Herb our first year of marriage with my Kidney infection when he wasn't able to be at the hospital, so he felt compelled to be there now. And I was glad...who else could make me laugh about such events?
So I waited, a good hour at least, for the doctor to come in and check me out. They had hooked me up to all of these monitors, and of course I had to pee (because I'm me) when there was no nurse to be found. So I unhooked myself, found the restroom, and hooked me back up. This happened twice in my day, which I thought was pretty good for my bladder. When the doctor finally came in, he listened to my lungs and heart, asked me what I ate for dinner last night, and then said he thought it might be acid reflux or my gallbladder. They'd have to do an ultra sound to be sure. This seemingly quelled any concerns I might have had.
Before the ultra sound, my nurse came in a gave me a "shooter", as she called it, of Lidocaine and Mylanta. I was burping pain killer the rest of the day, not a good time! Not to mention that it didn't really work, in fact it kind of increased my pain (although still not an 8!) I was then wheeled off for my ultra sound where the tech was super nice and comforting. She gave me a blanket because of course I was cold, and chatted with me about life. I was quickly wheeled back to the room where I stayed with no action whatsoever for the next 2.5 hours.
Finally I sucked it up and hit the nurse call button (I hate inconveniencing people for minor reasons) and asked if Herb could go get us some food. She went to ask the doctor if I could eat and in he came with my results. (I should've asked for food sooner!) He said I have gallstones and that they treat it the same right now as acid reflux because my gallstones are making it difficult for me to process the acid caused by fatty foods. He said he'd give me a list of foods that cause acid reflux to avoid. This was another point where I had to work hard not to laugh--good ol' Brian would have said "I know this already! It's like if I have a cannonball wound and the doctor says: here's a list of ways to avoid getting a cannonball wound--don't stand directly in front of a cannon. How true that is!" Now I really did need that list because I don't eat a lot of fatty foods in the first place. They didn't manage to give me a list, but they said in general to avoid foods high in fat and added "like peanut butter." It's as if he said to me "and no more happiness!" My little lactose intolerant self eats peanut butter as a go to food every day for lunch. I'm still pondering what will be my replacement food while mourning the loss of my peanut butter.
Before I was discharged my nurse came in and told me that there were three women in their twenties who had come in today with chest pain, all three of them had gallstones, but the other two were whisked to surgery while I was given a discharge slip. What a blessing to not have to have surgery! They said I can live with gallstones for a very long time with no real effect, as long as I eat healthy, and I was thinking that it's a great thing that I have changed my diet so much. If this had happened 5 years ago I may have been the one sent to surgery, but I changed my diet to be more healthy and while it didn't completely spare me, it made a difference.
So now I'm trying to deal with the realities of this. I'm taking acid blockers, but I draw the line at the Percocet prescribed to me. If I'm a five I don't need big pain killers! But really I have to consider the foods that might trigger a worsening of my gallstones. I'll see an internist in a few weeks and he'll help me out I hope. I feel like my diet is so limited already that this just makes me more sad. I will say that lists I found online of foods that tend to bother gallstones are foods that have bothered me for a while now. Foods like eggs, pork and red onion are on the list, so I'm not completely crazy that those bother me AND I've already cut them out of my diet. I guess it's just being mindful, or even more mindful, when I make food decisions outside of my house. I try to be, but I'll be even more diligent in that area.
I am thankful that the least of my worries is diet change rather than surgery I suppose, but ala Brian Regan the doctor is the only time I feel like a little kid again. "You didn't listen to me last time, did you? 'No, no I didn't.' What are you going to do next time? 'Listen when you tell me stuff.' And when are you going to start? 'Right now, right now I'm going to start.'" So I'll try to listen to the stuff my doctor told me, and hopefully next time I won't land myself in the ER. Or if I have to eventually find myself there, may it be bad enough that I have to "say 8!"
Check out Brian Regan's bits on the ER right here:
ER Part I
ER Part II
Doctor's Office
I woke up yesterday with the lingering chest pain from the night before. I worked out because yes, I am that crazy, and then decided to look on WebMD for ideas as to what might be causing the problem. Every single thing associated with chest pain urged me to see a health care professional immediately. This thoroughly annoyed me. I didn't want my day to be inconvenienced because of some stupid chest pain (indeed this is the statement of my mother's daughter!) Initially I thought I'd try to get in to my GP or go to urgent care so I could make it to 2nd or 3rd hour to teach. I called my principal and he encouraged me not to come. Good thing because my GP said "we send all chest pain to the ER" and 6 hours later I was leaving the ER. So no school for Katie yesterday.
Driving to the ER was a "pleasant drive" and when I got to the hospital I saw that they had valet parking. Brian would be so proud! If there's ever a place that needs valet parking, this is it! But there was no attendant standing outside! So I tried to find the ER to park and enter. I circled the hospital for 10 minutes trying to find the ER! I really think they need better sign-age for a place like that. A big blinking red sign would be amazing, with a bunch of little signs pointing from every direction to the ER seems quite logical. Luckily I found it without "imploding."
So I walked into the ER and I was a bit relieved they didn't ask me "what seems to be the problem?" or I may have started laughing right then and there. After taking my vitals and hearing the words chest pain, they sent me right to triage. While in triage a 70 year-old man came in with chest pain, and the nurse who was training a new nurse explained that you don't triage a 70 year-old man with chest pain, you just send him right in, but if it were a 20 year-old they'd check him out first. Then she picked up my chart and said "Classic example!" She asked me some questions, one of which was "How would you rate your pain?" With a straight face, which was really hard thanks to Brian, I said 5. I couldn't say 8 because I was willing to work out with the pain, so I figured that wasn't an 8. They sent me right to a bed, put me in one of those awful gowns, and I waited for Herb to arrive. While I wasn't dying, I apparently scarred Herb our first year of marriage with my Kidney infection when he wasn't able to be at the hospital, so he felt compelled to be there now. And I was glad...who else could make me laugh about such events?
So I waited, a good hour at least, for the doctor to come in and check me out. They had hooked me up to all of these monitors, and of course I had to pee (because I'm me) when there was no nurse to be found. So I unhooked myself, found the restroom, and hooked me back up. This happened twice in my day, which I thought was pretty good for my bladder. When the doctor finally came in, he listened to my lungs and heart, asked me what I ate for dinner last night, and then said he thought it might be acid reflux or my gallbladder. They'd have to do an ultra sound to be sure. This seemingly quelled any concerns I might have had.
Before the ultra sound, my nurse came in a gave me a "shooter", as she called it, of Lidocaine and Mylanta. I was burping pain killer the rest of the day, not a good time! Not to mention that it didn't really work, in fact it kind of increased my pain (although still not an 8!) I was then wheeled off for my ultra sound where the tech was super nice and comforting. She gave me a blanket because of course I was cold, and chatted with me about life. I was quickly wheeled back to the room where I stayed with no action whatsoever for the next 2.5 hours.
Finally I sucked it up and hit the nurse call button (I hate inconveniencing people for minor reasons) and asked if Herb could go get us some food. She went to ask the doctor if I could eat and in he came with my results. (I should've asked for food sooner!) He said I have gallstones and that they treat it the same right now as acid reflux because my gallstones are making it difficult for me to process the acid caused by fatty foods. He said he'd give me a list of foods that cause acid reflux to avoid. This was another point where I had to work hard not to laugh--good ol' Brian would have said "I know this already! It's like if I have a cannonball wound and the doctor says: here's a list of ways to avoid getting a cannonball wound--don't stand directly in front of a cannon. How true that is!" Now I really did need that list because I don't eat a lot of fatty foods in the first place. They didn't manage to give me a list, but they said in general to avoid foods high in fat and added "like peanut butter." It's as if he said to me "and no more happiness!" My little lactose intolerant self eats peanut butter as a go to food every day for lunch. I'm still pondering what will be my replacement food while mourning the loss of my peanut butter.
Before I was discharged my nurse came in and told me that there were three women in their twenties who had come in today with chest pain, all three of them had gallstones, but the other two were whisked to surgery while I was given a discharge slip. What a blessing to not have to have surgery! They said I can live with gallstones for a very long time with no real effect, as long as I eat healthy, and I was thinking that it's a great thing that I have changed my diet so much. If this had happened 5 years ago I may have been the one sent to surgery, but I changed my diet to be more healthy and while it didn't completely spare me, it made a difference.
So now I'm trying to deal with the realities of this. I'm taking acid blockers, but I draw the line at the Percocet prescribed to me. If I'm a five I don't need big pain killers! But really I have to consider the foods that might trigger a worsening of my gallstones. I'll see an internist in a few weeks and he'll help me out I hope. I feel like my diet is so limited already that this just makes me more sad. I will say that lists I found online of foods that tend to bother gallstones are foods that have bothered me for a while now. Foods like eggs, pork and red onion are on the list, so I'm not completely crazy that those bother me AND I've already cut them out of my diet. I guess it's just being mindful, or even more mindful, when I make food decisions outside of my house. I try to be, but I'll be even more diligent in that area.
I am thankful that the least of my worries is diet change rather than surgery I suppose, but ala Brian Regan the doctor is the only time I feel like a little kid again. "You didn't listen to me last time, did you? 'No, no I didn't.' What are you going to do next time? 'Listen when you tell me stuff.' And when are you going to start? 'Right now, right now I'm going to start.'" So I'll try to listen to the stuff my doctor told me, and hopefully next time I won't land myself in the ER. Or if I have to eventually find myself there, may it be bad enough that I have to "say 8!"
Check out Brian Regan's bits on the ER right here:
ER Part I
ER Part II
Doctor's Office
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Long Distance
Last night I talked to my Uncle Dave on the phone because my sister was hanging out and he called her to chat. It was so nice to catch up with someone I love, to hear his voice and be assured that he's hanging in there. I love to reconnect with people who live far away, but I'm HORRIBLE at it! I really am no good at sending emails, especially the variety where I am supposed to go on and on about my life. I love getting those emails from others, the updates that fill me in on their happenings, but writing them myself is difficult. I'm so terrible at picking up the phone when I'm thinking about someone and just dialing their number. I get concerned about what time it is there or how I will be inconveniencing them or I just plain want some down time. I feel selfish for being such a poor communicator, especially with family who live far away.
My sister is so good at long distance. Whether it's texting or calling, she keeps up with so many long distance relationships. I wish I were more like her, better at touching base. I wonder why this is an area of weakness for me. It's not a case of "out of sight, out of mind" but I'm afraid it appears that way. I don't want others to believe that I don't love them or don't care, but I can't seem to find a way to be successful at the long distance relationship thing.
I have no conclusion, just the problem. So I welcome any and all feedback. How are you successful at keeping long distance relationships alive? How do you keep in touch with people far away? These questions come with no promises that I'll be any better, but at least they come with a willingness to try. That's all I've got, the ability to try.
My sister is so good at long distance. Whether it's texting or calling, she keeps up with so many long distance relationships. I wish I were more like her, better at touching base. I wonder why this is an area of weakness for me. It's not a case of "out of sight, out of mind" but I'm afraid it appears that way. I don't want others to believe that I don't love them or don't care, but I can't seem to find a way to be successful at the long distance relationship thing.
I have no conclusion, just the problem. So I welcome any and all feedback. How are you successful at keeping long distance relationships alive? How do you keep in touch with people far away? These questions come with no promises that I'll be any better, but at least they come with a willingness to try. That's all I've got, the ability to try.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Planning Period
I so enjoyed blogging on Monday that I decided that it wouldn't be horribly inconvenient to attempt blogging during my planning period during the week. It may not be consistent, but it at least will give me something to aim for. I may not fall off the face of the earth after all.
I should be planning during my "planning" period, but I'm having a mental block. It's not just at work either. I forgot three birthdays last week, which if you know me it's not Katie-like at all. So much of my life is in limbo right now. No news on the house, no concrete job for Herb yet, no vision at school and no concrete emotion. I can't really describe or name where I am, which apparently stops me in my tracks. According to Melinda I make her "name" things, a process that I do myself. I name how I'm feeling. I name the situations I am living through. I name the people in my life. Not so much name calling as calling it like it is. Observing and identifying how things work and why they matter. This brain block of mine has kept me from "naming" happenings in my life and I don't know what to do with myself when I'm in that place. Suffice it to say, I'm in a limbo.
I suppose this is what some would call waiting on the Lord. Normally when I think of that phrase I envision waiting for something specific or guidance in a particular area. I've never had the experience of waiting on the Lord for some undefined purpose or idea. Waiting on the Lord for a sign of where I'm going. But that's okay. It's something new; a new experience in my walk with Jesus. So I guess I'm not really in a "planning period" right now; I'm in a waiting period. May the Lord give me a wide soul as I await His leading.
I should be planning during my "planning" period, but I'm having a mental block. It's not just at work either. I forgot three birthdays last week, which if you know me it's not Katie-like at all. So much of my life is in limbo right now. No news on the house, no concrete job for Herb yet, no vision at school and no concrete emotion. I can't really describe or name where I am, which apparently stops me in my tracks. According to Melinda I make her "name" things, a process that I do myself. I name how I'm feeling. I name the situations I am living through. I name the people in my life. Not so much name calling as calling it like it is. Observing and identifying how things work and why they matter. This brain block of mine has kept me from "naming" happenings in my life and I don't know what to do with myself when I'm in that place. Suffice it to say, I'm in a limbo.
I suppose this is what some would call waiting on the Lord. Normally when I think of that phrase I envision waiting for something specific or guidance in a particular area. I've never had the experience of waiting on the Lord for some undefined purpose or idea. Waiting on the Lord for a sign of where I'm going. But that's okay. It's something new; a new experience in my walk with Jesus. So I guess I'm not really in a "planning period" right now; I'm in a waiting period. May the Lord give me a wide soul as I await His leading.
Monday, October 20, 2008
A Good Man
There is a short story by Flannery O'Conner called "A Good Man is Hard to Find" and it is a tale of one broken girl's ability to find the worst man possible. It's an awful story tearing at the very dignity of men. While I would say that a good man is a good find, I can't go so far as to say he's hard to find. Or maybe I'm just blessed. I know many a good man, and I am often uplifted by the good young men I see in my classroom. But mostly I'm inspired by my good man.
Last night our pastor spoke about Ephesians 5 and the mystery of a strong Christ centered marriage. I have often heard me referred to as a marriage advocate, as the voice for the positives of marriage. I am serious about my belief in marriage, about my belief that there is no greater relationship that bears witness to God's love for us. Much of that is grounded in my foundation with the Lord, but much of that stems from my spouse. It truly takes two to make a marriage work, and I strongly believe that my husband is a wonderful leader in strengthening our marriage.
In just the past week, I have seen so much of Herb as a good man. Everyday he meets me at the door and lifts my backpack off of my shoulders and gives me a hug. Herb helps bear my physical burdens. When I need to cry he holds me and allows me to grieve. Herb helps tend to my emotional burdens. After he passed the Bar exam and went out to celebrate, he brought home flowers to thank me for my part in his success. Herb recognizes my value in his life. Following church last week he stopped to ask a women who sat at his table the previous week about a point of challenge they'd created as a table. Herb wanted to check up on her spiritual growth. He made us late, but he also tended to the soul of another. He entered into a difficult yet loving conversation with me about how he finds patience with others that I don't have. Herb lovingly challenged me to assume the best in people. He slept with me in an uncomfortable bed just because I'd asked him to spend time with my family. Herb loves me just that much.
I'm not sure if a good man is hard to find, but I know I am extremely blessed to have one in my life. Herb is a good man and he reminds me to see the good in others. He is a man I respect and willingly submit to because I trust him. I trust who he is and who God is creating him to be. Marriage may be hard, but it is worth it to know, to intimately know, a good man.
Last night our pastor spoke about Ephesians 5 and the mystery of a strong Christ centered marriage. I have often heard me referred to as a marriage advocate, as the voice for the positives of marriage. I am serious about my belief in marriage, about my belief that there is no greater relationship that bears witness to God's love for us. Much of that is grounded in my foundation with the Lord, but much of that stems from my spouse. It truly takes two to make a marriage work, and I strongly believe that my husband is a wonderful leader in strengthening our marriage.
In just the past week, I have seen so much of Herb as a good man. Everyday he meets me at the door and lifts my backpack off of my shoulders and gives me a hug. Herb helps bear my physical burdens. When I need to cry he holds me and allows me to grieve. Herb helps tend to my emotional burdens. After he passed the Bar exam and went out to celebrate, he brought home flowers to thank me for my part in his success. Herb recognizes my value in his life. Following church last week he stopped to ask a women who sat at his table the previous week about a point of challenge they'd created as a table. Herb wanted to check up on her spiritual growth. He made us late, but he also tended to the soul of another. He entered into a difficult yet loving conversation with me about how he finds patience with others that I don't have. Herb lovingly challenged me to assume the best in people. He slept with me in an uncomfortable bed just because I'd asked him to spend time with my family. Herb loves me just that much.
I'm not sure if a good man is hard to find, but I know I am extremely blessed to have one in my life. Herb is a good man and he reminds me to see the good in others. He is a man I respect and willingly submit to because I trust him. I trust who he is and who God is creating him to be. Marriage may be hard, but it is worth it to know, to intimately know, a good man.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Published?
You all know that someday I hope to be published, to be a writer in my own right. Not so much for the fame but to allow my voice to be heard. Without realizing it or initiating it, part of my voice was heard today through an article published in the Tucson Weekly. I haven't written much about the heart wrenching drama that has been my work situation in the last weeks for fear of saying the wrong thing, unintentionally allowing my emotions to slander any involved party. And I don't want to necessarily go into details about it here and now. But I thought for those of you who were curious or knew the article was coming, I'd make it accessible to inquiring minds. I wouldn't call it completely accurate, although I didn't have a say so part of that is my own fault. But for the most part the views expressed pretty accurately represent most of the parties involved. Feel free to post comments or ask questions and I'll answer them to the best of my ability while still seeking to be honoring and respectful. I'm not sure yet how I feel about the article, but it's out there now and can't be ignored. So we'll see how it goes.
Anyway, sorry if that's super vague. Hopefully the article can give some details and I can fill in the rest on a question by question basis. So without further ramblings from this English teacher here's the link:
Censored!
Anyway, sorry if that's super vague. Hopefully the article can give some details and I can fill in the rest on a question by question basis. So without further ramblings from this English teacher here's the link:
Censored!
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