Lesson(s) Learned

I must confess. Yesterday, as I was driving home to Jacksonville from Lynchburg, I passed a church (Who am I kidding? I probably passed 140,000+ churches… traversing through the “Bible Belt” of the country and all…), and when I typically pass by churches on-the-side-of-the-road, what do you think I notice? Yes, I notice the amount (or lack of amount) of cars in the parking lot (…I’m such a Baptist. Eeee.).  That’s an obvious give-away. See it; count it. Don’t see it; don’t count it. Done and done. I also seemingly assume and assess the church’s community-friendliness based upon some non-essential (and probably very faulty) means. Like this one church. In South Carolina. Literally perched up right next to a palm reader’s palace. Had a “Revival: Thursday –Sunday” sign out front. I wondered if the palm reader had been invited to the revival. By a person, and not just a sign. See, those kinds of things are what I wonder about when I pass churches on my road trips. And , wh...

Though I couldn’t put my finger on what it was or why, I was having a sad day and just had a longing feeling that I needed God today more than ever. While I do praise Him for that ability to want Him and to long for Him on the sad days, these thoughts entered into my mind: Feasts and famines. Mountain tops and valleys. Ebbs and flows. Winters and Spring times. Ups and downs. Promised Lands and Desert Wastelands. Highs and lows. Scripture’s sprinkled with them. And, if we’re all honest about it, our lives are littered with them. Your life. My life. The guy-next-door ‘s life. Even the woman-living-down-the-street-in-the-cul-de-sac’s life is not immune to them. What I’m referring to are the sad times, the thrilling times, the confusing times, the tormenting times, the I’m-so-happy-I-have-sprinkles-on-my-ice-cream-cone times, and the run-of-the-mill, regular, in-between times of life. I guess part of It we could just label as (or write off as) “that’s life.” That’s the way ...

It's NO secret (Victoria's or otherwise) that before every Tuesday NIGHT women's Bible study comes a TuesDAY, filled with speed bumps, potholes, construction sites, and various detours in the daily routines of life that do an oh-so-good job of alluring me away from the simple reminder to acknowledge that "this is the day the LORD has made; therefore, I will REJOICE and be GLAD in it." Aaaand  it all started something like this... Today was markedly a strange day for me, no doubt. To start, when I woke up this morning, I had that “gut” feeling that I was going to be ill-prepared for the school day. [If you’re a teacher, you may very well know EXACTLY what feeling I’m talking about.] No amount of planning (or worrying) or effort on your own can ever fully prepare you for some of the things life hands you throughout the school day. [Thankfully, as Christians, we know it’s GOD who hands us each-and-every momentous event of our day…. And it’...

Today, when I walked into my school classroom, there it was. Again. In the same spot it was several days before, and for several days in a row now. The realization was not quite fun, but the daily reminder was starting to get just sheer frustrating. And for that reason alone, it annoyed me and nudged me to move, to correct it, to make all things right in my little 4th grade classroom. What in the world am I talking about, might you ask. (?) A poster, that's what. A smallish poster containing a chart of the United States capitals, state birds, and state flowers. And where was it? On the floor. For what seemed like the fiftieth time. As I bent down this morning to re-stick this poster back on the wall. again. again. again. again. I looked at the back, saw all sorts of mounds and clusters of different kinds of tapes. Considered stapling the poster to the wall of the classroom. Saran wrapping it. Hot gluing it. Anything. Just...

This morning, I had the great opportunity and privilege to serve some of my little current and former students alike at their GOTR (Girls on the Run) 5K race. After check-in and about an hour helping little girls get all pretty-fied with hair clips, hair colors, GOTR tattoos, and GOTR stickers, I walked to the finish line to wait for the first little runner to cross. About 25 minutes or so after the beginning alarm rang, the first little girl came racing down the finish line shoot. As she did, I experienced something I never had encountered before. Roars, chants, screams, and cheers rang joyously from a crowd of people who were perfect strangers to this girl. On her precious little face, you could see the weariness, the sweat, and the determination. As I stood there - simply amazed at the hype and the experience of it all - tears filled my eyes, and this verse's paraphrase popped into my mind:  "Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a ...

Earlier this week, I realized that I did not have a Mother’s Day project for the kiddos to do, I searched frantically in my black hole of a teacher’s closet, found something quite cutesy that would work, and quickly sent off the master copies to be printed for all my little darlings. When I returned to the room with my fresh copies in hand, the students were all gone to one of their special subjects (music, p.e., art, etc.). All except one. Which one? The one that needed to be there. The one God placed there to prick my heart with the stark reality of his mere decade-long life. As this precious bright-eyed little boy stood before me, I stopped and thought to myself, “Eeeee. Now, this project wouldn’t be fair for (fill-in-the-blank). He isn’t allowed to see his mom.” What’s more unfair than a silly little project is the sobering reality of his life, reflected in the following dialogue that occurred several months ago when he transferred to my classroom mid-year: FLASHBACK Student: “...

God woke me up super early this morning with these thoughts running through my mind, so I suppose they are to help someone out there who’s struggling. I hope this letter, or FB “note,” encourages everyone out there – intended and unintended audiences alike. Unintended Audiences                 I’m sure it happens all the time in classrooms all around the world. Student A passes a note intended for Student B - only for it to be intercepted by the teacher. It’s actually quite the riot when the teacher is bold enough (and mean enough) to read the note in front of the entire classroom. It’s like a free pass into the secrets of that person’s life. The inner sanctum, if you will. The Holy of Holies, where everything is out in the open and raw before the presence of God and everyone else. But why, oh why, do people long (and maybe even love) to hear the content in the forbidden letters? Why do the unintended audiences...