Showing posts with label grace. Show all posts
Sunday, September 4, 2016
A Stronger Song
I almost didn't go to church this morning, because it's a holiday weekend here, and I was feeling kind of lazy. But we're starting a Karen Kingsbury book study and I'd invited my friend Carol to join me for our Sunday School class so I went, because I said I would. And I'm so glad I did, because our teacher shared this video clip, which really has me thinking, reflecting, and wondering.
It's so interesting, the two versions of Amazing Grace that this talented music director sang. The first one was pretty textbook, safe and clean. But when the host gives him a new perspective from which to sing it and couples it with his permission to bring it, his voice amplifies and he sings with incredible passion.
So today's question is this: What makes your song better?
Is it trust? A willingness to be vulnerable? Knowing your why?
Is it a safe place? Community? Unconditional positive regard?
Lately I've been thinking a lot about my recovery from being hit
by that drunk driver because that life-changing event ended up
strengthening my song.
It taught me to slow down and savor,
it taught me to be grateful in all things,
and it taught me to forgive.
Even though it was a dark season of panic and pain,
the whole ordeal held an opportunity,
the burden hid a blessing.
I just had to be willing to look for it
and be ready to recognize the gift when it found me.
It took a lot of patience, persistence and perseverance;
sometimes more than I thought I could muster.
But it was totally worth the work.
Liz Murray had this to say about staying the course:
It takes courage to change our song,
to trust enough to leave the script,
to share our music with passion,
to sing it out for the whole world to hear.
How will you sing a stronger song today? Tomorrow?
This week? This month? This year?
This week? This month? This year?
Friday, March 18, 2016
My Name Is Blessing
Today is bittersweet, because it's our last official day of Spring Break 2016. What a glorious week of restoration and rejuvenation it has been. The sun shining through my window is calling me outside for some more Vitamin D, so today's post will be short and sweet. It's a bittersweet story about kindness and hope, one which was shared with me by my friend Jen Hammerle.
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| Click the book cover to go to the author's website |
Based on the true account of a Kenyan child with a physical disability, this tale finds a young Muthini living with a kind grandmother Mumo, who is struggling to make ends meet for him and his eight cousins. Check out this beautiful book's trailer:
Mumo, whose name means Grace, is forced with a difficult decision to journey to a Orphanage where Muthini might have a chance at a better life, but will they even allow a child whose name means Suffering to stay?
On my first reading, I wasn't sure I liked that the Orphanage was going to change the little boy's name, and I'm not sure my students will either. Use this as a springboard for a discussion about the importance of a name. What might, could, would be the difference in life for a child whose name means Suffering vs. one whose name means Blessing? Should the Orphanage take Muthini as he is or is there a benefit in changing his name? What does this have to do with mindset?
Create an empathy experience: After reading the book aloud, ask for a volunteer and tape that student's fingers down to recreate what it was like for Muthini Baraka to only have the use of two fingers on his one hand and none on his other. What skills might they still do handily? What things will be difficult to do without assistance? What is the experience of missing fingers like? How does it feel? What do you want or need to adapt and thrive?
Blessings are everywhere. As a follow-up activity, encourage students to make a list of their blessings. Can they get to 50? 100? 500?
For more engaging activity suggestions from the publisher, click {here}. For more information about the author's work at Creation of Hope, click {here}.
Friday, August 14, 2015
My Friend Grace
Today I'm frustrated because I had an epic Mommy fail.
A Friday fail.
A FlaVorIce fiasco.
By now you're probably thinking Oh, no, what happened?
Well, here's the backstory.
It was last night, as Joshua was headed back to Marching Band practice, when he mentioned that he needed to put twenty of these FlaVorIce in the freezer because he wanted to surprise his French Horn section with a treat at break on Friday morning. I told him to go on the practice, that I'd do it for him. And we both went on our way, never giving it a second thought.
This morning at o'dark hundred, as Joshua was getting ready for Marching Band, he asked if I could help him get those frozen treats into an insulated carrier ...
and that's when I froze.
I went numb, actually, and my heart sank. He must have noticed, because he added, "you did put them in the freezer last night, right?"
I was frozen, but they weren't.
I'd failed. Big time.
And it was a time when failure didn't feel like an option.
Nor did it feel like a first attempt in learning as seen on these cute little minis that keep popping up on Pinterest.
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| Click for source and to download. |
So my brain kicks into problem-solving mode.
When did he need them by?
Would they freeze in time?
If not, where could I buy some frozen ones?
Surely I could sneak them up to the school.
But he shrugged it off, hugged me, and told me not to worry about it, that he could do it next Friday. When I checked the calendar, there wasn't a practice scheduled for that day. so I suggested Monday. Surely they'd be sufficiently frozen by Monday! But he said no, that wouldn't work. Why not? I pushed.
Joshua: Because it's not alliteration.
Me: Wait, what?
Joshua: Alliteration.
Me: You've lost me.
Joshua: Like Watermelon Wednesday. This was going to be Friday Freezer Pops. It's okay, mom. It's fine.
And I started to cry.
I'd let my boy down, in a big way, and he was comforting me with a gentle reminder about my friend Grace. I was beating myself up for forgetting and he was forgiving me, no questions asked. I was trying to make it better, and he was telling me that it's okay.
Forgiveness on a Friday; how's that for alliteration?
When John got back from dropping him off, I asked if Joshua was as upset about the freezer pops as I was, and he said no. There's a part of me that will always feel frustration that I foiled Joshua's plan to treat his section to a FlaVorIce at break. But the bigger part of me is grateful for and blessed by his forgiveness and grace.
When's the last time you got a visit from your friend Grace?
Sunday, May 31, 2015
Grieving The Goodbye With Grace
As midnight approaches and I get ready to say goodbye to May,
as we get ready to say goodbye to another school year this week,
and as I prepare to say goodbye to an office I moved in to back when we used dial-up to connect to the Internet, my thoughts turn to one of my favorite
childhood characters, Winnie The Pooh.
It's been a month.
And what a month it has been.
A month since they told me I was being transferred.
A month of heartbreak and heartache.
A month of grieving the goodbye.
Hard stuff.
So hard that some days it hurt to breathe.
Some days I felt sick to my stomach.
Some days I couldn't stop crying.
And I couldn't exactly figure out why.
That's important, you know, getting to the why.
Because once we know the why, we can get to the how.
It was this Thursday, on my mental-health day away from school,
that something my sister said helped me get to the why.
It's kind of like a divorce, she said.
One that you didn't see coming. One that you don't want. And one that you're having trouble accepting. Of course you're grieving.
Amen. Someone gets it. And the pieces fell into place.
I was hurled into a separation I didn't ask for and don't want.
No wonder it hurts so bad. Yes, it makes sense to me now.
I understand why I haven't been myself.
It's not that I don't want to follow my kids next door,
or nurture the seeds I've planted, or experience them in the next age and stage.
It's that I was blindsided by an unwanted break.
One that shocked me.
And one that hurt.
To the core.
I wish I could say that I've handled it with grace.
Some days were better than others, but this month,
this month has been really challenging.
Difficult at best.
A real character builder.
An emotional roller coaster.
I've been sad and mad.
And I've wanted to take my wounded pride and run away.
As fast and as far as I could.
The good news is that, day by day, I'm tenderizing
and that pride is turning toward grace. And gratitude.
I'm thankful for a new opportunity, for sure and
I'm ever so grateful to readers, family and friends
who've checked in on me and normalized my feelings.
Just yesterday, Sue (whom I look forward to meeting in real life one day) sent an email to make sure I was okay.
She validated the notion that counselors need a job that fits.
And she said she was crying with me.
There's that glorious virtue of empathy.
I value that in a friend.
And it helped me move toward the how.
So tomorrow when I wake up, I'll be a year older.
And a lot of tears wiser.
It'll be a new month and another chance
to grieve the goodbye with grace.
And to move forward.
I'm lucky and abundantly blessed to have worked since dial-up in a school,
where I've felt rooted while rooting for kids,
where I've felt joy basking in the climate of caring,
where I've always felt at home.
We're starting the mural on the wall in my Counseling Cove in the morning, a nice first step into my new story.
Good grief; is that a twinge of excitement I'm feeling?
Grace ... it's a beautiful thing.
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