Oh, the joys of teaching science! Today we began studying the very basic third-grade version of photosynthesis. Somewhere in our textbook it described the give and take of oxygen & carbon dioxide between humans and plants as a "gas exchange." Upon hearing these words, my class erupted into laughter. They are absolutely taken by any humor that touches on bodily functions. Wanting to play off of their amusement, as well as make a point, I walked over to a cabinet and pulled out a whooppee cushion. It had been hiding behind the blue doors for such a time as this, though I didn't know it when I stuck the leftover white elephant gift there.
I pulled out the peculiar noisemaker and brandished it in the air, claiming "This is NOT the type of gas I meant!" Another round of laughter... Now that everyone was awake for this science lesson, I tore open the package and to my students' delight began to blow it up. I think I scored major "cool points" in third grade history when I sat on it...
Well, I guess a small sacrifice of my own dignity was well worth the lesson. But, what WAS the lesson anyway? We did finish our lesson...but not before we acted out the lives of plants, reacting to the sun and water as well as the "joggers" running by, gasping for air and dispensing carbon dioxide. Will any of them remember that chlorophyll are those little green things in plants that help make food for plants? At the least perhaps they will recall that the "gas exchange" in photosynthesis is NOT whooppee cushion gas. But if all else failed...I pray that they enjoyed a laugh. Laughter is INDEED good medicine. Ask a third grader.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Pie Crusts
This blog was written in August, but I never posted it:
“Promises like pie-crust, made to be broken.” So says Emily Dickenson. And, in this world of heartache and pain I think so often many of us wonder if God’s promises are like that. But they’re not. They are faithful—because HE is faithful. However, quite often those promises are not fulfilled in our timing. I, for one, like to put God in a box, but He is so much bigger than any box I could think up. “Oh, the depths of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments and how inscrutable His ways” (Rom. 11:33)!
Somewhere else He says, “For my ways are not your ways.” How often I wish they were and then I realize what a foolish thought that is. If His ways were MY ways, I would want “Justice.” I would want the bad guy to get the just punishment every time…until I realize that I am that “bad guy.” Then I’m so thankful that His ways aren’t like mine—because He is merciful. Praise God!
Back to His promises---“all the promises of God find their Yes in him [Christ]” (II Cor. 1:20). “Your promise is well tried, and your servant loves it” (Psalm 119:140). How incredible! I want to know by seeing how His promises are fulfilled. I want to see how He works all things for good. I want to know by sight. He knows that, and He has been reminding me lately of a very fundamental lesson. I should have learned it long ago—but I’m very, very slow to learn. I’ve asked in my heart for Him to show me His reasons, plans, purposes for my life. He seemed to whisper to my heart: “Daughter, if I showed you my purposes so that you could trust me, you wouldn’t be trusting me. ‘Faith is hope in what is not seen’ (Heb. 11:1).” God has reminded me of this verse over the past couple months as I’ve struggled with “why’s.”
This morning, I read in Streams in the Desert: “It is faith without sight. When we can see, it is not faith, but reasoning…Let us go forth this day, not knowing, but trusting.” So, trust, faith, hope…these are the things with which I have been entrusted.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
It's Ok
As one of my little students reminded me the other day...it's ok. :) Sometimes we just think things are such a big deal and so hard, but they're just not that bad. It's all in our perspective. We were learning about obedience--our definition is "a willingness to do with a happy heart what I am told." I tried to keep a straight face as the problems that third graders face unfolded. Speaking in all seriousness (as one who well-versed in difficult matters of life), one of them shared that he had learned: "It's ok. I can help with the dishes."
If I could just see my life from God's perspective, I'd probably be laughing at me too. It's ok...He can handle my dishes!
If I could just see my life from God's perspective, I'd probably be laughing at me too. It's ok...He can handle my dishes!
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Rejoicing can be tough
I had never really noticed this verse before, at least not in the same way I did recently. "Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep" (Rom. 12:15). I think I have always thought something along these lines: Of course we rejoice when others are happy, and of course we weep, or at least show empathy, when others are sad. It seems so natural--most of the time.
Recently the Lord has brought me through a situation that has unveiled this verse for me. I'm seeing it in a new light--one in which I have realized that there are actually times when we are called to rejoice with others when their joy actually brings us pain.
During that time, God made this verse jump off the page at me: “Rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep.” I guess that’s the gist of the gospel. It’s not about us. It’s about everybody else. It’s not about me understanding. It’s about trusting God. It’s not about getting my way (whatever that happens to be at the moment); it’s about rejoicing in the midst of God’s good plans for all His children! “Rejoice with those who rejoice” instead of letting self-pity get in the way. As I’ve prayed for others, I’m more thankful for God's work in my particular situation. And, by God’s grace, I think—I hope—I am on the way to actually rejoicing with them. As a song says, “You give and take away for my good, for who am I to say what I need?”
Perhaps I should have waited until I “get it” to share this, but that would defeat one of the purposes of this blog--that of “preaching to myself.” As a teacher, I think I learn best when I share what I’m learning with others. It helps me process what I’m being taught. So, for what it's worth to anyone else, this is a lesson God is teaching me. Hopefully one of these days I will "get it." In the meantime, I sure am glad that He's not given up!
Recently the Lord has brought me through a situation that has unveiled this verse for me. I'm seeing it in a new light--one in which I have realized that there are actually times when we are called to rejoice with others when their joy actually brings us pain.
During that time, God made this verse jump off the page at me: “Rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep.” I guess that’s the gist of the gospel. It’s not about us. It’s about everybody else. It’s not about me understanding. It’s about trusting God. It’s not about getting my way (whatever that happens to be at the moment); it’s about rejoicing in the midst of God’s good plans for all His children! “Rejoice with those who rejoice” instead of letting self-pity get in the way. As I’ve prayed for others, I’m more thankful for God's work in my particular situation. And, by God’s grace, I think—I hope—I am on the way to actually rejoicing with them. As a song says, “You give and take away for my good, for who am I to say what I need?”
Perhaps I should have waited until I “get it” to share this, but that would defeat one of the purposes of this blog--that of “preaching to myself.” As a teacher, I think I learn best when I share what I’m learning with others. It helps me process what I’m being taught. So, for what it's worth to anyone else, this is a lesson God is teaching me. Hopefully one of these days I will "get it." In the meantime, I sure am glad that He's not given up!
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Forgiveness--a prayer
This is me. The real me. The me that I don't want other people to see. But God sees it all--and He's the one who gives hope to the hopeless! I had "journaled" this in my computer at some point over the past months. Perhaps my prayer echoes in other hearts.
What does forgiveness mean to me? Have I experienced it? Yes. Do I really understand it?...Do I? Is it conditional? Is it deserved? Does it expect anything in return? Do I qualify? Can I qualify? Have I blown it? Can I blow it? What is forgiveness?...wiping, cleansing, cleaning, purifying. Hum…that last word seems too quaint for today. I have so little point of reference for “purification.” But, cleansing, sanitizing, qualifying, a clean record. I do know those terms. I know how a clean bath refreshes a worn out body. I know how a person must qualify for top secret clearance—they have to check off on everything, and they can’t have a single thing wrong. I’ve never gotten a clearance. Well, I guess I have with teaching—a clean background check. But, what good does that do?
What I want is cleanness. I want…well, forgiveness. I’ve fallen. In fact, I was never that high up to fall from. But, right now I’m pretty low. I need something I don’t have—a clean record. And, I don’t want to flippantly come to God again and say, “Please forgive me.” Because I’ve done it so many times and then fallen right back into my old habits. I make a commitment. I give my word. I promise to succeed this time. And then, before more than a handful of days have passed, I am on the ground again. Stuck.
What I need is forgiveness. And help. God, I don’t want to come to You. I, honestly, foolishly dare to have enough pride to still think that I want to help myself. But, I can’t. I simply can’t do it. I can’t get control of my life, of my habits, of my sins. I simply am unable to pick myself up. So, because otherwise who would I turn to, I am back. I’m a prodigal daughter. I don’t have any merits to show for all my years. My resume is blank. If I were to pull out any trophies of my “own,” they’d be simply ones that you, my Father, bought for me. I didn’t win any of those games on my own to get those medals. Any of the trophies sitting on my shelf are ones you won for me. I fell down on the field. You picked me up. I didn’t even want to get up. I was ready to quit. But, you hoisted me up, steadied my feet, and then guided my limbs to score. That trophy…all those trophies are really yours.
What I’m asking for is another trophy. Another trophy to put on my shelf beside all the others. Another trophy that I didn’t win. Another trophy that I can say was paid for by my Father. That’s what I am pleading for. I’m still that same reluctant sport. That lame, lazy, loser. But, you’re still the same Father. So, I come to you. Help me!
What does forgiveness mean to me? Have I experienced it? Yes. Do I really understand it?...Do I? Is it conditional? Is it deserved? Does it expect anything in return? Do I qualify? Can I qualify? Have I blown it? Can I blow it? What is forgiveness?...wiping, cleansing, cleaning, purifying. Hum…that last word seems too quaint for today. I have so little point of reference for “purification.” But, cleansing, sanitizing, qualifying, a clean record. I do know those terms. I know how a clean bath refreshes a worn out body. I know how a person must qualify for top secret clearance—they have to check off on everything, and they can’t have a single thing wrong. I’ve never gotten a clearance. Well, I guess I have with teaching—a clean background check. But, what good does that do?
What I want is cleanness. I want…well, forgiveness. I’ve fallen. In fact, I was never that high up to fall from. But, right now I’m pretty low. I need something I don’t have—a clean record. And, I don’t want to flippantly come to God again and say, “Please forgive me.” Because I’ve done it so many times and then fallen right back into my old habits. I make a commitment. I give my word. I promise to succeed this time. And then, before more than a handful of days have passed, I am on the ground again. Stuck.
What I need is forgiveness. And help. God, I don’t want to come to You. I, honestly, foolishly dare to have enough pride to still think that I want to help myself. But, I can’t. I simply can’t do it. I can’t get control of my life, of my habits, of my sins. I simply am unable to pick myself up. So, because otherwise who would I turn to, I am back. I’m a prodigal daughter. I don’t have any merits to show for all my years. My resume is blank. If I were to pull out any trophies of my “own,” they’d be simply ones that you, my Father, bought for me. I didn’t win any of those games on my own to get those medals. Any of the trophies sitting on my shelf are ones you won for me. I fell down on the field. You picked me up. I didn’t even want to get up. I was ready to quit. But, you hoisted me up, steadied my feet, and then guided my limbs to score. That trophy…all those trophies are really yours.
What I’m asking for is another trophy. Another trophy to put on my shelf beside all the others. Another trophy that I didn’t win. Another trophy that I can say was paid for by my Father. That’s what I am pleading for. I’m still that same reluctant sport. That lame, lazy, loser. But, you’re still the same Father. So, I come to you. Help me!
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Torn Apart
Have we ever stopped to wonder
What if we were one another,
Hearing footsteps of their memories intruding on our minds?
Have we ever seen a look of pain
And really stopped to look again,
To notice what another feels escaping through their eyes?
Has the darkness seeping from their skin
Appalled us as we saw their sin
Yet we failed to recognize that we all do the same?
Has the wickedness throughout the earth
Parading unstopped, growing worse,
Disgusted us but redefined our shame?
Now pausing in our musty pride we must confess
That although duty calls we do not do what’s best,
And though our hearts arraign us most ungraciously
We see that what we’re fighting is duplicity.
So often we are spellbound by our world of woe
And cannot see what others near are going through,
Until we pause to listen to their broken heart.
Our world is not the only one that’s torn apart.
What if we were one another,
Hearing footsteps of their memories intruding on our minds?
Have we ever seen a look of pain
And really stopped to look again,
To notice what another feels escaping through their eyes?
Has the darkness seeping from their skin
Appalled us as we saw their sin
Yet we failed to recognize that we all do the same?
Has the wickedness throughout the earth
Parading unstopped, growing worse,
Disgusted us but redefined our shame?
Now pausing in our musty pride we must confess
That although duty calls we do not do what’s best,
And though our hearts arraign us most ungraciously
We see that what we’re fighting is duplicity.
So often we are spellbound by our world of woe
And cannot see what others near are going through,
Until we pause to listen to their broken heart.
Our world is not the only one that’s torn apart.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Miracles
Do I believe in miracles? Of course I do--in theory. But, if I honestly ask myself what I really truly think, whether I really truly believe God not only can but will work miracles in my life I'm afraid I'm on shaky ground. My faith is so weak--so small. A mustard seed? Hum...is it even that big? Well, regardless my God is BIG! So, I guess yet again I can't place my faith in myself and in my own faith. I just have to trust the Lord. Oh what a relief!
And about the miracles, I'm just going to ask God for some. In fact I already have....and I think I may be beginning to see some peeking around the corner! Didn't someone say, "It's not that we ask God for too much. It's that we ask Him for too little."? I want to start asking Him for much and expecting it--believing Him for miracles!
And about the miracles, I'm just going to ask God for some. In fact I already have....and I think I may be beginning to see some peeking around the corner! Didn't someone say, "It's not that we ask God for too much. It's that we ask Him for too little."? I want to start asking Him for much and expecting it--believing Him for miracles!
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