A Quiet Day this Saturday

Once a year my church holds a day of rest and reflection. We call it our Quiet Day. This will be my first year to attend. In some ways I’m looking forward to it. What will the day be like? We have gentle yoga planned. Are there other activities? In other ways I’m a bit nervous. I find peace in solitude, will there be too many people for that? Presumably I’ll spend time quietly talking to God, or maybe just waiting. Will I find answers to my questions? Or will I fidget too much, as I’m wont to do, to find peace?

Today my friend San has a new post up that gives me food for thought. It’s about a view on life that has one turning around and viewing life from the opposite direction. It also covers the inner and outer voices. That gave me so much to think about that I’m hoping I’ll be able to focus on it’s meanings on Saturday. The post, you can read it here, made me think about seeing things from that different perspective. Can it really be that simple? Can I mentally turn my chair around and see my life differently? On Saturday?

The key concept of my hope derives from something I’ve done once unsuccessfully and my priest did recently very successfully. What we both attempted was wandering in the wilderness. My priest went on sabbatical. During that time he went on a solo hiking trip, after a meditative and prayerful retreat, to spend time with God in the wilderness. My last attempt at walking with God in the wilderness was a couple of years ago and even with all the markers on the trail I focused on the wrong things, didn’t plan carefully enough, and had wrong info which, if corrected, would have given me a lifeline. The result for my priest was that he came back refreshed, renewed, and changed from his experiences. My results were different. I got lost and in the process lost faith in myself. Not in God though. I give him all the credit for me not ending up in an emergency room after getting lost on a walk that had plenty of signs if I’d known how to read them.

In some ways that analogy also applies to my life and career choices. Good intentions aren’t enough. You have to have skills in reading signs, and plan with forethought and self awareness when you choose the paths you take. So when I asked my priest last Sunday if he would teach a class on how to find our way in the wilderness I was being more than hopeful. It occurs to me that perhaps learning how to walk in the wilderness physically would also help me walk it metaphorically.

Since I’m seeming to place so much hope on this idea I plan on encouraging my priest again to teach this class. Folk in my church love going hiking and for the past 2 years we’ve had a trip to a beautiful camping place in our state, Big Bend. There are a lot of places around our city where we can go hiking. We even have access to several places that can be reached on day trips, done with 2 hours of driving each way. I’m not ignorant of the fact that it takes more than locale to teach one how to survive in the wilderness. I just hope that I can generalize the skills of successful navigation to the rest of my life. And that by going into the wilderness with God I’ll tune out the distractions of life, as I did in my youth, and focus on what is real and true. Maybe that will make a difference.

He Stretched His Arms Out Upon the Cross

Today’s service was a visual example of the meaning of the action of Christ upon the cross.

It was Community Speaks Sunday and, as is our custom, we had a guest speaker, Kay Briggs, who is author of the book The Magic Seashells. The Magic Seashells is Kay’s story about her recovery and healing from sexual abuse she received as a child. Hers is a beautiful message about how she tried to live out her life in the perfect appearance so often demanded by our society, keeping her experiences and troubles a secret, until she learned that to heal from the hurt done to her as a child she had to embrace the darkness of her experience and find God’s love within it.

We also blessed and said goodbye to a member who is on a journey away from us. He is headed off to prison for the crime of downloading child pornography and will serve several years in the state facility. He knew better than to do what he did. He feels bad about it and asked over a year ago for forgiveness and we gave it with a lovely service of prayer and laying on of hands in blessing in the hopes that his journey will find him healed at the end. We all knew his day to leave would come. We just didn’t know it was going to be today.

I worry about this man because I know that what he did has made him an outcast to some of our church, society at large, and will also do the same to him in prison. From my ex who is a jailor, “inmates all have children and they hate child abusers so any inmate that they learn has hurt children has to be locked away in administrative detention to save their life from the other inmates who will beat them up and try to kill them.” So he may end up in solitary for the next few years just to live. Even if he doesn’t enter solitary confinement he certainly can’t make friends with anyone and reveal his offense.  It’s a long and lonely road he has ahead of him.

Kay’s message was a blessing to me and I know that it wasn’t easy what she did, learning to accept herself and be open about her experiences. Kay may have had her own prison of sorts trying to live out the lie of perfection. I’ve known other people who experienced child abuse and it’s a lonely misfit life they live until they find healing for that hurt. 

After we prayed for him, our departing member, I sat there and thought about what that meant, the welcoming of a victim of child abuse and prayerfully blessing an enabler of it. It seemed such a dichotomy. So radical. So extreme! From victim to criminal, Christ’s forgiving love was exemplified by the actions of our priest and the community. That is such a huge stretch that it boggles the mind. Is there nothing that God can’t or won’t forgive, fix, or heal? Apparently not. So I think that for the next few days, or perhaps weeks, I’ll be thinking about how wide Christ’s arms stretched when he laid them down upon that cross for us all. It’s a humbling thought.

May the love of God enfold each and everyone of you today and everyday! Peace! Hope! & Joy!

Walking a Measured Path

When I was just into my 30's I was working at a bank and finding life kind of rough. It didn't meet my hopes or my expectations. Decisions in life that I'd made without thinking had brought me to a point where I was feeling kind of cold about life and what mine represented.

Then one day I met Tom Jones, no, not the singer. This guy was a young and rising officer at the bank. We found we enjoyed each others company and music brought us closer together. You see, we both played guitars. So our dates revolved around that.

I think my life's dissatisfaction must have been present in our conversations because one day Tom asked me if I believed in God. He managed to do this in a way that didn't sound like he was trying to save me or anything like that. I wish I could tell you his exact words, but what happened after was more memory worthy.

We were sitting at the table in his place and I'd been talking about all the things wrong in my life. I even managed to spill soup on myself in the midst of crying. Tom was understanding, lent me a clean shirt, but after that he gently suggested I read the bible. I asked him what that would do and his answer was something along the lines of "it will give you good advice on how to live." So I guess I started seeking through reading.

I actually did. I read the New Testament because that's where Tom said I should start. My impressions of the bible were no doubt strange and sometimes silly. The morning after reading about Jesus cursing the fig tree I declared he'd gotten up on the wrong side of the bed. Tom grinned when I said that but he also listened.

Eventually I read the whole New Testament, and at some point during that time Tom invited me to attend church with him and this lady he knew. That was where I got saved and the story of that evening was told back at the beginning of this blog in "Maintenance and Retro Learning". I'd never imagined that the receiving of a faith could be so real! Since that time I've walked through life knowing there was a God and he loved me beyond words and beyond reason, or at least from my perspective.

Looking back on those talks with Tom, I've come to realize that while I'd heard lots of proselytizing talks from friends or acquaintances, this one was real in a much more holy way and far less religious. I'd gone through the steps and stages that the bring people to Christ in a very natural way. All the salvation pamphlets list them. Seek and ye shall find. Confess your sins, repent and be forgiven. Believe and receive. Well I had sought, hadn't I? I was certainly unhappy till Tom helped me find that path. Confess my sins? I think that any believer is able to forgive sins in God's name. Tom heard me confess all my past sins at that dinner table. I'd cried over the things I'd done and wanted to be able to put them behind me. I'm sure that Tom forgave me, as did God. We stayed friends for many years. It was distance that separated us and I only hope that my friend is happy. When I went to church with him and Debra, his future girlfriend and my future best friend, I listened, believed, and received the Holy Spirit.

So who planned all of that? Not me. Not Tom. I think it was God. It just fit "the plan" too perfectly to be anything else. And that is how I came to believe, walking a measured path from dark into light. Thank God!

Growing into Loss

When I was in high school my grandfather on my father's side passed away. When Mom called to tell me about it I wanted to attend the funeral, but it wasn't convenient because I was attending boarding school in San Marcos at the time and the funeral was in Kingsville. So the idea of my grandfather being gone was somewhat unreal to me. I never got to consider the expected need for closure with that situation or make any. It was so distant that I didn't even mourn. I tell myself that my grandparents are in my heart and live on there and that I will see them when it is my time to go. It feels like they are on an extended visit and they'll be back soon...that time being unfathomable because it would be when I get to where they are.

If you've got a long, close history with someone this can be a reasonable reaction. It isn't the expected one, but it falls in line with what we are taught in church or myth surrounding death. So the first time I ever grieved was when I had a friend dying of cancer. I still miss her but the pain has settled down to a conversational thought tossed heavenward knowing that she is looking in on me from time to time. I knew her for 3 years and it took me 2 to delete the folder with all her emails in it. Why didn't I feel that way about my grandparents? I guess because I'd always had them close enough to go visit that expectation held on in my reaction to them being gone.

Ever since my first experience mourning the loss of someone I've found it hard to hear of someone else getting ill with cancer or something else that could take this familiar, loved face from my world. It's like the idea of loss suddenly became real. So I had a hard time yesterday when a friend at church said she read the obituaries daily looking to see if anyone she knew had gone on. When someone I know gets sick I get so sad and hurt so inside that I have a hard time dealing with it. I wondered how others dealt with that pain. I know several people I care about at church that are getting on in years and becoming frailer every time I turn around. The idea of them not being there is scary. I wonder what I can do because the idea of cringing and hiding away from the pain that the thought of them passing on brings is instinctive, but the desire to be close to them while they are here is critical to my loving them.

And that's what my friends and I discussed last night in my Cursillo reunion. There are apparently stages of mourning and one of them has some pamphlets that she will give me shortly to read on the subject. It felt really good to have someone to talk to about my concerns over my emotional reactions to pain and fear of loss. I felt like I'd been taken into a group of wise women and was being supported and brought up in a very loving way. We all cried for those we loved and were concerned about losing. We talked about ways we could be close to them while they are still here. I may be making one or two changes in the ways I interact with my church to support my being close to those I love because of that conversation. And I feel really wonderful about the whole thing. Even though I cried I know I am loved and understood by those women, and I'll be better at loving people I know who may not be with me that much longer.

Peace! Hope! & Joy!

Strength Comes in Many Forms

The latest Weekend Wandering question posed by David McMahon was, "How strong is your faith?" That question has several answers so this may seem a bit of a ramble. Faith has so many different effects on our life that strength can be measured on several different scales, each as unique as the faith of the individual who's describing it.

What is strength? Is it intensity? Is it endurance? Is it a force that creates change? Is it simply a quiet call so irresistible that you can't stay away? I've been a believer for 25 years. During those years, my faith has been measurable on each of those scales at different times for different reasons.

When it was new, it was so intense that it was very much a life changing force. The minute I believed, I was changed. I had a religious experience that let me know forever after that God is real. My attitudes and personal behaviors, at the time consistent with popular culture, turned around and became those of the loving and kind beliefs I was brought up with. To say my life took a 180 is not an exaggeration. The effect of change at that time was instantaneous. I'd be sitting in church listening to the sermon and hear something that resonated with my newly found spirit of belief...Holy Spirit...life. Change was effected without effort. Belief that it was right and fit with God's intent was all it took.

As I grew more experienced in my life of faith, I found things intruding on that walk with God. Most dramatic was my own anger. Nothing can take you away from faith like the belief that you aren't walking right. You get angry, unhappy, pull away from what you've known was right and just withdraw from the things that support you in your faith. There used to be an old saying which went something along the lines of, "If you feel far from God, guess who moved." Yep, anger moves you...far away from that which you no longer feel in sync with. Like Adam and Eve you hide in shame. Does the presence of God stop just because you turn and hide? No, eventually the quiet, soft voice of love brings you back. Why? Because no one loves you like God does. Not parents, friends, lovers, children, pets...no one! God's love is unique in its all inclusiveness. God loves every bit of you and nothing you are or do will make that change.

After experiencing the way anger can change your faith and its functioning, you discover how the world can change it. Being tired means you want to go home and sleep instead of going to Sunday services. Not knowing a soul well at a new church means you don't want to put yourself out to go to functions where there is no one you look forward to seeing. You tell yourself that you can worship God anywhere. While that last is true, there are things one gains by being part of a community of believers that solitude doesn't provide. The life you build for yourself can create impediments to you practicing your faith. Like the husband, that you want to spend time with, falling asleep during service. The length of the drive to the new and interesting church you found. The feeling that maybe you just don't fit in.

When I had gone through a marriage and divorce, a job change, and started trying to rebuild my life, I found myself at a church that kept me there but didn't feed me in all the ways I needed. I think this is called being a fallow field. I'd find myself uninvolved at church, unfed, unfulfilled, and get angry and think of going elsewhere. Why did I not get fed? Part of it was that I was so devastated from the collapse of my life that I literally hid within a crowd. When you hide from everyone and everything you approach life so tentatively that no one can successfully involve you in theirs. You don't involve yourself in the church community. You don't make any effort to fit in and thus you make no connections. Yet every time I looked for a different church I found that while some things were attractive there were things that made me say, "No way!" Nothing else seemed as right as the place I'm at. So I hung around for 3 years with no involvement and no friends at the church I attended.

I'm not sure what triggered the change but eventually my efforts to change my career caused me to feel I needed mentors. I was facing a role I'd never seen myself in...that of leadership. There were lots of people in my church who worked in the career field I was trying to enter. I needed a way to connect with them and find someone who could answer the many questions I had about this new role I'd chosen. God provided a retreat called Cursillo and I found some mentors and moved into the community of my church. Suddenly I was "involved". Within a year I had a circle of friends and then a best friend. I found another role to fill, that of servant, and became involved in the ministry of the Eucharist. God's still small voice was bringing me back to the fold.

Now, I'm a Lay Minister, an Altar Guild member, and have a small select circle of friends whom I love to spend time with and can talk to about almost anything. The creativity of that community is helping me grow and see beauty within where before I'd always looked without for that kind of view. My new experiences in creativity have started my efforts to share myself instead of hiding the gifts God has given me. A network of friends across the globe is building and I'm finding inspiration in the communion of life with others I'd never have believed I could enjoy 25 years ago when this path started.

Endurance...25 years worth. Intensity...enough to break through the barriers a hurting spirit builds. Force of change...building a new self image, developing a community, learning how to love yourself and in the process how to love others in meaningful ways. Creation...so many new things, experiences, knowledge, connections, a whole world that only a God who loves you so much better than you can ever imagine builds for his beloved child. IS my faith strong? I'd say yes. Not because of anything I've done...but because of it's focus and creator. Thank God!

Morphing the Dream

David pointed out that I'd been silent and he was concerned. :) My good friend, JS, has been letting me pop in to visit as her schedule allows. My sister is calling me every two weeks now. So what's up with me? Well, as the title implies, I'm morphing the dream.

Several years ago, a good and beloved friend suggested I become a teacher. His wife had been using my semi-expertise in computers. "Why not," I thought? "I'm good at it!" So, with the help and encouragement of friends I stepped onto a path.

This was about 2 years after my marriage broke up. I'd never changed careers before. If I had I might have tackled it differently. The path I took was designed to be short. It turned out not to be short. It was designed to get me in a job quickly. There were none to be had. So things went on for a while with me knocking on doors and taking training workshops. They called this the alternative route. I eventually took a job doing something much lower in the teaching field. I became an aid in special education.

My job taught me much. It opened my eyes about the education system. While working in it I found that I really love children. I like teachers. That I love the learning environment, I already knew. One-on-one teaching is something I excel at. Something I'm not good at is arguing. And kids today really seem to know how. I'm also not good with large groups of people be they kids or adults. If I'd thought about the type of person I am, because I already knew some of that, I might have rethought public school teaching as a career.

Because I was challenged and happy, eventually I went back to college and got even more classroom experience. That was so much fun and I loved being creative with lesson planning. There were signs that I was on the right path, good grades, success in lessons planned and given, people who believed as I did put in my path to guide me. Then came the moment every education major dreads, student teaching. That was a different sort of learning experience. In student teaching I felt like I had hit a wall.

Someone once told me, "intelligence is not level across the board." Well it seems that I've met a ceiling. And it is a very hard ceiling. Down I crashed. Determined I could learn from this experience I mustered my resources and bravely, albeit with some trepidation, tried again. Again I hit the ceiling! This time I didn't even see it coming.

The thing that surprised me the most was, I felt relieved to be out of the public school classroom. That doesn't mean that I'm not good at teaching, or that education in some form isn't the right path for me. It just means that I should train small groups, preferably adults who value education, and find a job that will use some of my other strengths. So, with the help of a responsible university, caring friends and family, and my own desire to grow into something I will love, I've decided to look for a new type of job.

What's my new dream job? Well, that is still to be determined, but I can tell you the skills I have that it will include. It will include writing! People keep telling me that I'm good at it and I really enjoy it after I get over the fretting about what I'm going to say part. :) It will include me training others or developing something that helps with that! I am a good teacher and one of my strengths is clear step by step explanations of things, even those that are rather abstract. It will involve the use of computers! After 21 years in the Information Processing field I have gained skills and shown aptitudes that shouldn't go to waste. I'm even good at teaching you how to use them. Put those three tings together and you have a lot of possibilities in many different career fields. And that's where I'm doing my work for the moment.

Right now, Career Services(CS) and I are working on giving me job search skills. One thing they did was have me take a neat personality test. LOL! You know me and tests, right? This one was based on the Myers-Briggs Type Inventory. I'm an INTJ! That "I" surprised me because I love being the center of attention. The results also said I'd be bored doing repetitive things. Well, heck, I've done them. I always found that the repetitiveness gave me time for mental wandering. Maybe I was bored. I definitely found ways to entertain myself. Another thing CS has me doing is job searches to see if the job descriptions fit my interests. We are going to rewrite my resume and set it up to be customizable for different types of jobs. I also plan on going through one of those simulated interview sessions to make sure I don't have any major impediments in my presentation.

In the meantime, I'm once again scoring education tests for the same place I worked at late last year. Yes, I'm going to look at that company. I'm looking to see if there are publishing firms in the Texas area. I'm also looking at the IP/IT field to see if there are jobs there that I can fit well. So, please keep me in your prayers? I'm morphing my dream in hopes of a better fit.

Moving Days!

We are moving the church services back into the sanctuary today. The repairs are almost done and the pews and carpeting look so much better. There is still some painting going on so the place smells a bit like paint but that will be gone shortly.

Altar Guild members came in and started to work getting the place clean and ship shape as early as 9 AM. When I got there about 10 AM there were a couple of people at work. More showed up slowly. I think every one will be trickling in all day as their individual time allows.

So far we've dusted the pews and woodwork including the altar, narthex and southex shelves, the pipe organ, and the window rails. The kneeling pillows have been put back in place around the altar rail. While all of this was going on our sextant was vacuuming. A good start has been made towards putting books back into the pews. Even our pastor showed up to put his garb back into the correct closet and make sure all his shawls and what not are in the right place. From the way things are going we should be all moved back in by day's end. Tomorrow a team will be setting up for Sunday services in the sacristy. They will enjoy having a ceiling fan in there. It makes it much more comfortable.

Our flags have been put back on their poles and will be in place by the time the 8 AM service rolls around. Our Altar Guild head is ex military, as am I, and we worked at getting those symbols back on correctly. She had taken them home and washed them. It was a trip down memory lane watching her roll the flags and take a pair of scissors and trim off the occasional "Irish pennant". I've no idea why loose string ends are called that, I learned the name in the military.

You can already tell how much better the sanctuary looks. The woodwork gleams. Working on the sanctuary makes you feel good. When you get down on your hands and knees to dust inside the trays that hold the hymnals you learn a lot about the pews you sit in every Sunday. I'd never given them much thought before today. Now I know where all the dust nooks and crannies are and which legs weren't completely bolted to the floor. I also know which pew has a small slit in the wood where two boards were pieced together. Usually there is a nice glue plug, but for some reason there wasn't one on one pew. I don't think it affects anything. It is just that I know it's there and will always wonder about it. After all the work I did in there today it feels more like home, like I own a piece of it. I have vested labor in it and have come away rewarded.

On Sunday morning, I'll show up a little early because my team is doing set up for this weekend. I was asked if I could help on Wednesday night when we are holding a Celtic Mass. This is a really big deal and we want everything to be perfect for it. I have friends who may be coming into town to see this so I had to give a tentative "no." But if they cancel on me, as they did the last time I invited them, then I'll definitely show up to help.

Tomorrow I'm headed over to a friend's house to help her family clean up after their move to an apartment. This is only the first of several moves they will be making over the next few years. I don't envy them the task of packing up again and again. The only good thing about that is you get to keep your clutter to a minimum if you are smart about it. I may be moving myself in April. I need a less expensive apartment and will probably be ready to find one by then. A couple of weeks ago I signed a new lease on the one I'm presently living in. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Rents are going up in San Antonio and the new lease kept my rent from rising drastically. So, if you dislike moving and all that unpacking as much as I do please keep me in your prayers. It would be really nice to not have to move.

All grumbles about moving aside, there have been some good things that came out of my church's temporary move out of the sanctuary. We learned the joys of coziness when doing the Healing Eucharist service on Wednesday nights in the church library. We also learned the pleasure of standing in a line and walking up to our pastor to receive communion instead of him going around the rail. We had the joy of sidewalk cafe dining while the weather was nice. Now we will be able to enjoy once again the wonderful meals our breakfast teams prepare for us every Sunday morning. Change is life and sometimes, life can be good!

Rain, Meetings, and Chocolate!

We have rain here! Yesterday afternoon, as I was leaving WalMart, I had to run to the car in it. Yay! I hadn't gotten wet with rain in a long time and felt totally like a kid again. Rain is cool! And we are going to have it all this weekend.

On Thursday as the school day was ending, My CT and I had a meeting with the Principal. She talked to me about the high expectations that they held for me. The feedback I gave her helped me clarify some things. Then my CT and I went back to our classroom and relocated the desks of several students whose behavior we hoped to improve by seating them next to other children.

Thursday night I called a good friend and talked about the challenges of student teaching. She was a great ear and had some good advice. Then yesterday I counseled with my supervisor who had more good advice. She reminded me that I'm still supposed to be merely observing and figuring out how this teacher does things. That's all I'm supposed to be doing...not helping...not interacting with the students...just watching. I can do that. I also need to remain aware that this CT is not going to be my friend and maintain a professional relationship with her. I can do that too. It isn't what I'd hoped to do. I learned tons from my last two CTs who have both become friends. I'm sure I'll learn a lot from this CT too. We just may never get to where we really like each other much. I do hope I can gain her respect. That's vital.

When I was at WalMart I found some of the things I need to help me organize the semester. I got a clear plastic filing box that wasn't too expensive. I really wanted a filing drawer but they were expensive. So I elected for something stackable and affordable. I also discovered the wonderful selection of chocolates that WalMart now carries. I was amazed and delighted. So much so that I bought 3 bags of dark chocolate and one bar. None of this was cheap but the choices were good. There was Ghirardelli, Green & Black, Hershey's Cacao Reserve, Cot d'Or, Lindt and a few others I can't remember. I aimed for chocolate that had at least 70% cacao in it. I've read somewhere that this high level of cacao is necessary for effective serotonin results. I'm not sure about that but it certainly tastes better. The Cot d'Or had 86%. Wow!

Adjustments and Judgements

My bedroom is still not quite put back together after the earlier mishaps but it is getting there. The comforter, after being washed, is now wonderfully fluffy. It seems that drying it with 3 tennis balls is a great boon to the loft. The bedroom is now off limits unless I'm in it. So far this has only inconvenienced Hooboo. Hyram is happy sleeping almost anywhere. Hooboo wants more play ground.

In my classroom, I'm finding myself already developing likes and dislikes. I have my favorites but I'm trying to make connections with all the children. Yesterday, I discovered that one student has the same birthday as I do, so I shared that with him. I hope it made him feel better. A couple of children are definitely getting my irk factor up. Neither pays attention to the teacher. They are both determined to do their own thing. One is a bit of a know-it-all. The other is a tattle tale. And although I haven't figured out yet why I think this, one of them seems to be a bit of a liar. I wonder if I'm taking denial of misconduct as a lie and over emphasizing it. I certainly don't want to be unfair. But I also want the students to own up to their actions.

At the university yesterday, I mentioned to my supervisor that my CT was less than enthusiastic about having a student teacher. So far she seems accommodating, but I worry about the things I might not be aware of and the results of any actions or attitudes she and/or I might display. I'm not always savvy about motives. My supervisor suggested that I simply be aware of it and be very, "It's your space and you rule" to her. I might even want to hold back on some of my idea generating. That's kind of sad because I really want to make learning fun. But I also don't want to step on my CT's toes in any way.

While reading Susan's blog I noticed her lovely slimy mollusk graphic and checked out TTLB. I am wondering about signing up but I know that my hit count is so low that I'd only be an Insignificant Microbe if I didn't drop off the chart entirely. I'm actually proud of my hit count. It is nowhere near Susan's but I get caught up in a lot of subject searches and so my count has climbed from 2 or 3 in the beginning to 8 or 9 a day. I've passed the 2000 mark and am almost halfway to 3000. Not bad for a beginner who is horrible at networking. I know that a few of the hits I get come from Susan's page or people who have read her page, checked mine out and came back later to see if I'd updated anything. So, Thanks Susan!

Ok, the 2nd alarm on my watch has just dinged telling me it is time to head off to work. Gotta run and do the klutzy, still finding her way, student teaching thing. Have a good day all!

The Misadventures of the Perpetually Lost

When I left the house this morning it was early enough for me to make it to school in plenty of time. NOT! Driving down Austin Hwy I got the clever idea of going past my old place work place and take a shortcut. I knew the street I needed to turn on ran straight into the road I was on. This would surely save me time. Hah! Let's just say that I learned a lesson on navigating murky waters. Don't get creative, go with what you know.

I missed the corner I needed, and when I did turn off I ended up in the wrong neighborhood. This was way beyond the place I intended to be. So I tried to backtrack. That didn't work either. The streets were unfamiliar and I ended up at Fort Sam. There the nice guy at the gate told me to go back down a certain road and I'd need to turn onto Austin Hwy. Then I could surely find my way. That didn't go as it should have either.

By this time I was just at the "late to work" point so I called the school. They were getting ready to do morning announcements and it would take about 5 minutes. So I hung up and persevered. I got further lost and called again. Someone was finally free to help me. The only problem was that I was now in a small encircled township on the outskirts of San Antonio, Converse. Fortunately, the nice lady on the phone was familiar with that area so she was able to talk me back to Hwy 35 and from there to the school. This took some time but, after all my navigation errors, I wasn't about to let her off the phone. Who knew what would happen. When I finally got to the school it was past 8:30 and I was over an hour late.

Fortunately, the people at the school took it in good stride. It turns out the lady on the phone giving me directions was one of the teachers I'd worked with slightly in my earlier experiences at that school. She was very good hearted about it. After I got into my classroom I dutifully called my supervisor and left a detailed message telling her what had happened and that I would have my cell on me in courtesy mode if she wanted to talk to me about it. She called while I was in the cafeteria, was very nice about it, and told me I had done exactly the right things in calling the school and her so I was ok. I suspect that next year she will tell her student teachers to give the route a test run before the first day of school.

The rest of the day went fairly well I think. We had about 14 kids. Some hadn't shown up and others, not on our list, did. I learned several names pretty quickly. Those were the kids not paying attention and talking all the time. When we noticed how antsy the kids were in the midst of math she tried to think of a movement we could do while counting by twos. I offered a suggestion and she let me teach it. The kids seemed to like it and it got them up and out of their chairs for a few minutes. Lunch was good, Recess was better. We toured the school so now I have an idea where most things are. The only downside, besides getting there late was that my CT told me she hadn't wanted a student teacher and had been talked into it by the Assistant Principal. I think that is something I want my supervisor to be aware of. So, even though I got to see my two old teacher friends that work there and am looking forward to the semester, I'm a bit concerned about how things will go. Asking for prayers here folks. I really need to pass this one because you don't usually get a second shot.

Peace and Hope!

Last Night

Late yesterday my friends JS and her wife invited me to dinner at their place. This was a real treat because their lives are so busy that get-togethers are usually planned way in advance. It felt really special to be included at the last minute. This says something about the way I was raised because I've always gone out of my way to avoid intruding on friends' lives when they are busy. And here they were saying, "come on over," as if I lived just next door. (g)

The burgers were good. I got to see their back yard for the first time. They have a gazebo that I love. They are picking really fragrant flowering plants so I look forward to seeing how their yard progresses. I met a couple of the neighbor kids who popped in and out to play with theirs. But the best time was after dinner when we sat on the sofa and I got to hear all about their wedding and see the album. They really put a lot of thought and planning into it making every detail special. It was obvious that each detail meant something to both of them and both felt equally vested in the ceremony.

That wasn't the case with my marriage. My ex's aunt and I did most of the planning. My ex had veto power on things he didn't like. His feelings about the whole thing were, "I want to be married, I just don't want to GET married." What a difference!

I remember when my sister got married. She invited me to be her maid of honor. When she walked down the aisle she and her future husband had tears in their eyes. I remember dancing at a good friend's first wedding. We all had high hopes and joy for him and his bride. I didn't get to dance at his second wedding but I like that wife much better. He is happier now than I've ever seen him. My sister's in her second marriage now and happier too. So is JS.

It seems most of my friends have been through more than one marriage. Looking back on the joy I see in my friends' second marriages, I guess we really do learn from experience. I learned a lot from the breakup of mine. Since then, I've figured out some of the things I don't want in my next marriage. I've learned a bit about what really suits me and what's good for me in a relationship. I've learned what kind of constant work such unions take. Most importantly, I think, I've learned the need to remain a separate individual in my own right even in the midst of trying to grow together as a couple. So, when I get a view of a marriage such as I had last night, I want to drink it all in and ken from my friends' joy what it takes to make a strong, happy, and lasting relationship.

Birthday parties and being in the right place

When I was a child, being taken to a birthday party was scary. That sounds ridiculous! Birthday parties are fun! Yet there I would be, present in hand, getting dropped off and encouraged by my mom to go knock on the door of an unfamiliar house (this was probably 1st or 2nd grade). My knees always trembled when going to that door alone. "What if it's the wrong door? What if Mom's made a mistake and it's the wrong house or the wrong day?" If that happened I would have been so embarrassed. I would've been "wrong!" It was very stressful.

Eventually, I got over it and learned to knock on doors without fear, until my marriage broke up and the fear came back. Getting left does not make for great self-confidence. You feel "wrong" all over again. I've always wondered why I have that particular fear. For many years I couldn't think of a reason. Then on Sunday I felt that feeling again and suddenly remembered a childhood experience from when I was even younger.

One night back when I was 2, my parents went out with friends and left me, and their friends' kids, with a sitter. When our parents came back I ran to my father, threw my arms about his knees, and called him Daddy. It wasn't Daddy! It was someone else's father. My memory tells me that I was very angry about this. What I suspect is, I was horribly embarrassed and everyone laughed at my discomfort while trying to reassure me that all was okay. It must have been really harmful to my child's self-esteem to go to the wrong parent. When you are that young your entire world revolves around those two people. And there I was, running to the wrong person.

Now that I've remembered this I think I can start to winnow that fear out of my system. I have some kind of reason for it. How long can a bad experience last? Quite a while it seems.

When I sat in church Sunday morning and tried to focus my thoughts, I found myself feeling like I was wrong all over again. It was really unsettling. I love God and I love going to church. Yet there I was wondering if I was "wrong" and didn't belong there. My best guess for the trigger for this time was a dream of rejection I had the night before. My reaction was to concentrate harder on the lesson and pray. The lesson was the one where Jesus says we must eat his flesh and drink his blood or we don't have life in us. So there I was pondering on the existence of flesh and blood in the Eucharist. When we got to the part where you take communion I was glad to receive it. It felt very important today. I also prayed, asking God for help with this fear. I asked for eyes that saw him clearly and didn't mistake someone else for him. It helped some, but I don't want to walk my faith always wondering if I am on the right path. And I never want to listen to someone who is not God directing my life in ways that seem good but may not be.

If this sounds like more talk about discernment, it is. I think I am coming to realize just how important discernment is, even about ourselves. And how difficult it can be. If I know one thing about myself it is that no one can mess me up as thoroughly as I can. My Spiritual Director says that is true of most of us. When our childhood experiences, or our adult ones, affect us so that we don't see clearly, we can find ourselves lost and wandering around trying to not go to the wrong place. Have I mentioned that I get lost easily? I have a poor sense of direction and prefer very clear, detailed maps for trips and life in general. That isn't always possible. So, now that I am concerned about staying on the course God sets for me, I will have to get better at recognizing his voice (as opposed to others including childhood fears) and reading the signs he sets on my path. Since Cursillo, God seems to be telling me things several times until I get the message, exhibit the needed change of heart, and move in the right direction. Trusting my gut wasn't something I learned to do as a child (poor self-esteem) so this lesson may take awhile. It takes 27 times to build a new habit, and even though I never learned to listen to that still small voice in the midst of activity...I am trying to!

Peace.

Voices in our heads and from our hearts

Disclaimer - I'm not a prayer warrior. Effective prayers and long hours on my knees aren't my forte. And I am not going to be sharing any great secrets or insight here. But if you've ever had God answer back you know the joy of hearing his voice. That joy makes me want to share, but I realize that not everyone is comfortable hearing about prayer and voices from God. So if that will upset you please don't read any further. I promise not to be offended if you help me to not offend you by going elsewhere. Ok...disclaimer finished.

Sometimes, hearing voices in our heads isn't a good thing. That being said, God speaks to those who listen. And he listens when we answer back.

When Martin spoke of that still small voice I knew just what he was talking about. Many faithful people do. It means we are listening. We listen with our hearts, not our ears. We are hoping to hear from God. Sometimes we do. And when we answer back, we speak with our hearts, minds, voices and sometimes our bodies. God listens to them all.

We are also supposed to listen with our minds. When God speaks to me I am supposed to use discernment to know that it really is God who is speaking and not my own emotions. Sometimes this isn't hard to do. His voice has a distinct feel and flavor. The message I hear is usually in-line with the things I know of God from scripture. Seldom has he spoken in a way that didn't have multiple consequences. His words and meaning spread out from the primary message like the rings one gets from a pebble dropped in a pool of still water. Sometimes, however, I want to hear his voice so much and want something so bad that I can create my own voice and that is when it is hard. When I want a good result based on what I want, and not on what God has in mind, then I can find myself hearing a voice and not knowing for sure if it is God. I know enough about scripture to make the message logical. When that happens, even my efforts at discernment fail. Hopefully yours are better.

Does God's voice sound the same every time you hear it? It doesn't to me. His voice takes many forms. So I guess it seems normal to me to speak back in more than one way.

When we talk to God we use many different voices. These voices come from our heads, our hearts, our guts (especially when they ache), our needs, our wants, and hopefully our joys. Scripture talks about tongues and also about a special language that only the indwelling spirit and God understand. But tongues mean voices as well as language and it is as natural to sing our prayers as to weep them or rant at the heavens. I've even had a friend tell me of visualizing your prayer and just sending the picture heavenward.

A few years back I sang my prayers. This was during the 80's when Praise songs were so popular. I think they still are but they have moved into a different genre. Those songs can be sung repetitiously and that is very conducive to meditating on the message they are giving which is usually very simple. It would be me in the car, on a trip, and singing songs of praise while I drove. After a while, I'd get so in touch with the spirit that the need for formal song would stop and I'd start singing whatever my heart felt like saying to God, and using what ever melody popped into my head. It was a kind of free form song and never had any real verses, although once God did give me a praise song. That was a form of exultation in the joy of life in the spirit.

Last Lenten season my church held a "come pray with us" series of classes which taught different forms of prayer. We had contemplative prayer, lectia divino (please forgive any misspellings), prayer of the senses, and guided imagery. All of it was wonderful and I learned a lot in each class. During that period they opened the labyrinth (maze for those who call it that) and we even did some Christian yoga one evening.

For me motion is akin to prayer and, because I love music, dance is often the form it takes. When the rhythm and flow of the melody invades my being, my body becomes a conduit for the expression of life. The beat is my heart beat and my breath. The flow of the melody is my motion; arms, feet, and body taking flight as I express what I feel in a very focused and yet totally free form.

So do I think I can dance? LOL Not really. I never got a lot of training so my form and style are definitely amateur. But when I start to move to music which excites me it doesn't matter. It is sheer exultation and self expression. It is thanking God for life. And I'm okay with that.

If you have a favorite form of prayer or an answer story I hope you will share it.

Peace, Hope, and Joy!