I feel a sermon coming on....those were dreaded thoughts when I was a kid. My Mom would start on a subject and my eyes would meet with my brother's eyes and he would sometimes mouth what we were both thinking..."I feel a sermon coming on". She would commence to "preaching"...on and on and on and on about whatever topic she felt we needed to hear. I promise this entry isn't going to be like that.
Last year, just about this time, I needed some miracles. Something I read or heard suddenly took hold and I felt such a change in my faith and trust in God, that it was hard to even comprehend. But I declared August my "month of miracles" and somehow knew that it would be.
I am once again claiming August my "month of miracles". The miracles that I need are different this year, yet I know that God is faithful and will somehow see that our needs are met. It's not even August and they have started already.
My friend "J" owns her own business...sadly it is a mortgage business. I don't know if any of you keep up on the housing market, but around here it has gone DOWNHILL fast. Her business has been doing very bad this year. When I saw her Sunday I could see the frustration, stress, and even fear on her face. Her tears were flowing freely. I told her that I was going to pray for her and we both needed to BELIEVE that God was going to help. She called me last night to tell me that she got an offer yesterday to join another company. She will close her office, put her stuff in storage and go to work for someone else. This will provide her with a steady base income, plus profits on all loans she gets and closes herself. She doesn't have to worry about salaries and office rent, etc. I could hear the relief in her voice as I spoke to her. So, in the "miracles needed" column of my journal, I can already scratch one off.
"V" is a best friend/sister. She and I were college room-mates. She is the closest thing to a sister I have ever had. She (and her husband--who by the way was my first college date--hmmmm) has been there for me in tough times and I have been there for her. The month she got married she was diagnosed with Lupus. Through the years it caused great damage to her organs and 18 years ago she had to have a kidney transplant. That kidney (which they named Sidney) has given up the ghost. She had a shunt put in yesterday and starts dialysis today. She has to quit work for the time being and go on disability leave. Her name is going to be placed on a donor list and she will have to continue dialysis until she receives another kidney.
Last year Zack's tuition was free. However, the fee's that go along with private school...sports, books, building maintenance, etc. are not free. I still owe over $700. He can't register until that amount is paid in full and then his registration fee is around $200. Registration for sophomores is August 25th. I have worked part-time in the office this summer to help out...but that won't even cover 1/4 of what's needed. We're needing a miracle.
This year things have changed and we now have to pay tuition for our kids (and yes, they are still REQUIRED to go there if we teach there). We do get a 35% discount, so that helps...and my pay has increased (almost as much as the tuition will be). To help out, we will be having a Korean student live with us. I was hoping to have moved to a better house before she gets here on August 25th. To do that, I need first and last month's rent and a landlord who is willing to take a renter with not-perfect credit. This doesn't HAVE to happen this month, it would just be nice if it could happen this month so that we wouldn't have to move during the school year and also so that I wouldn't have to take the kids to school 90 minutes before school actually starts.
So, I am in need of some miracles. Today my Bible reading was Lamentations 3:1-24. The verses that were especially significant...21-23: "Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is YOUR faithfulness."
AMEN!
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Friday, July 25, 2008
Memories of Dad
Dad was a hard-working man. He worked at a small trucking company, started there when he was a teenager, took a few years off to serve in the Korean conflict, and retired from the same company in his mid-60's. When we would see a Cook truck, we would always get excited and scream out "There's one of Dad's trucks"...even after we were adults and knew better. He was very dedicated to his job. Once he took a one week vacation and on that Friday, he fell off a ladder, breaking his leg and back...but was back at work the next Monday.
I was born during the last few months of Dad's US Navy service. I believe his Navy years were some of the best in his life. He remained friends with a few of his buddies (even named my 2 brothers after them) and told great stories of his time aboard ship.
Dad was quiet and calm. However, every once in a while, he would blow. I remember when we were camping once and he'd had enough of the "fussing". He yelled "ENOUGH!" and threw down his plate. He used enough force that the plastic fork bounced up and stuck one of my brothers in the neck. (Actually it was my Mom's home-made, very sticky syrup that caused the fork to stick.)
Dad was blunt...but in a funny way. I had a college friend who was very un-endowed...if you know what I mean. She was also VERY sensitive about it. She came home with me for a spring break and the 2nd day she was there, my Dad came home with a very large rubber band. He threw it at her and said, "Peg, put this around your waist when you eat...as much as you eat, I'm thinking this would make a difference in your figure." I almost crawled under the table. I didn't know how she would react to that...it could have put her into a "mood" for the next 6 months. But, she laughed until she cried and when we got back to school, she hung that rubber band on her bulletin board. It was there until we graduated.
Dad hated Avon. Mom sold it, Dad always had to go with her to "deliver". He would sit in the car while she delivered...which could take anywhere from 10 minutes to over an hour. He always had to stay up on the nights the order had to go in so that it would make the midnight postmark. (That meant he would leave the house at 11:45 pm, rushing to the post office to make the deadline.) He had more Avon cologne than a man would ever want. He would have been happier with a bottle of "Old Spice". He would have laughed (along with my brother and I) at the fact that his ashes were sealed in an Avon jar and when I went to the funeral home to pick them up, I carried the jar out in an Avon bag.
He was not one who cared about fashion. I cringe at some of the outfits he actually wore during the 70's...as well as the sideburns he felt he had to grow. And I was thrilled when he discovered jeans during his retirement years.
Dad had a nickname for me. He very rarely called me by my name. He nicknamed me "Gertrude" (ouch) when I was very little. I was 2 years old and started crooning loudly and dancing along with someone on the radio named Gertrude Arbusinger (or at least that's the story he told me). So, for as long as I can remember, he called me "Gert". No one else ever called me that...but even when I moved away from home, he would answer the phone with "Hey Gert, how's it going?"
Dad wasn't openly emotional. There weren't a lot of "I love you's" spoken...but it never had to be spoken. It was there and NEVER doubted. He worked a lot when we were kids, so there was a lot of time that Dad wasn't really around to play ball, etc. But when Zack came along, that totally changed. He played ball with Zack, took Zack to work with him, came to my house in the mornings to get Zack up and off to school (because of my school and job commitments)...they were best friends. I am so happy that Zack had that time with Dad.
Dad lied to me twice (that I know of). The first was about my beloved dog "Smitty". I was 4 and Dad told me that Smitty ran away. He even walked me around the block looking for Smitty when I said I wanted to go find him. I didn't find out until I was 16 that Smitty had to be put down because he was very sick.
The second lie was that he was going to live to be 84. I don't know why he chose that age...but he didn't make it. Today would have been his 78th birthday.
We miss you Dad...ever single day.
I was born during the last few months of Dad's US Navy service. I believe his Navy years were some of the best in his life. He remained friends with a few of his buddies (even named my 2 brothers after them) and told great stories of his time aboard ship.
Dad was quiet and calm. However, every once in a while, he would blow. I remember when we were camping once and he'd had enough of the "fussing". He yelled "ENOUGH!" and threw down his plate. He used enough force that the plastic fork bounced up and stuck one of my brothers in the neck. (Actually it was my Mom's home-made, very sticky syrup that caused the fork to stick.)
Dad was blunt...but in a funny way. I had a college friend who was very un-endowed...if you know what I mean. She was also VERY sensitive about it. She came home with me for a spring break and the 2nd day she was there, my Dad came home with a very large rubber band. He threw it at her and said, "Peg, put this around your waist when you eat...as much as you eat, I'm thinking this would make a difference in your figure." I almost crawled under the table. I didn't know how she would react to that...it could have put her into a "mood" for the next 6 months. But, she laughed until she cried and when we got back to school, she hung that rubber band on her bulletin board. It was there until we graduated.
Dad hated Avon. Mom sold it, Dad always had to go with her to "deliver". He would sit in the car while she delivered...which could take anywhere from 10 minutes to over an hour. He always had to stay up on the nights the order had to go in so that it would make the midnight postmark. (That meant he would leave the house at 11:45 pm, rushing to the post office to make the deadline.) He had more Avon cologne than a man would ever want. He would have been happier with a bottle of "Old Spice". He would have laughed (along with my brother and I) at the fact that his ashes were sealed in an Avon jar and when I went to the funeral home to pick them up, I carried the jar out in an Avon bag.
He was not one who cared about fashion. I cringe at some of the outfits he actually wore during the 70's...as well as the sideburns he felt he had to grow. And I was thrilled when he discovered jeans during his retirement years.
Dad had a nickname for me. He very rarely called me by my name. He nicknamed me "Gertrude" (ouch) when I was very little. I was 2 years old and started crooning loudly and dancing along with someone on the radio named Gertrude Arbusinger (or at least that's the story he told me). So, for as long as I can remember, he called me "Gert". No one else ever called me that...but even when I moved away from home, he would answer the phone with "Hey Gert, how's it going?"
Dad wasn't openly emotional. There weren't a lot of "I love you's" spoken...but it never had to be spoken. It was there and NEVER doubted. He worked a lot when we were kids, so there was a lot of time that Dad wasn't really around to play ball, etc. But when Zack came along, that totally changed. He played ball with Zack, took Zack to work with him, came to my house in the mornings to get Zack up and off to school (because of my school and job commitments)...they were best friends. I am so happy that Zack had that time with Dad.
Dad lied to me twice (that I know of). The first was about my beloved dog "Smitty". I was 4 and Dad told me that Smitty ran away. He even walked me around the block looking for Smitty when I said I wanted to go find him. I didn't find out until I was 16 that Smitty had to be put down because he was very sick.
The second lie was that he was going to live to be 84. I don't know why he chose that age...but he didn't make it. Today would have been his 78th birthday.
We miss you Dad...ever single day.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Rest and Relaxation
I got back late Saturday night from 4 days in the woods. Laura and I left on Wednesday, without kids, and went to her place at Goldbar Nature Trails. It's only about 40 miles away...but truly seemed like a world away. There was no traffic, no responsibilities, no schedule...it was great. We read, ate, slept, played cards, talked, giggled, and really had a great time. I'm so glad that we had the chance to get away. While we were there, I even read 4 books!
I need to start taking some time away once in a while. So far my summer vacation hasn't really been much of a vacation. Even though I still have a little painting to do, the house is clean and ready to show to prospective buyers. I don't have any major projects left to take care of. So, I'm going to take my time and start working on lesson plans, keep the house and laundry in shape, and spend more time relaxing. Once the school year starts that is hard to do.
Again, I am reminded to "be still and know that I am God". It's hard to listen to God in the hustle and bustle of everyday life. I know I can't go "into the woods" every time I need to hear something from God, but I need to be able to stop, relax, take some time and listen.
Have a great week!
I need to start taking some time away once in a while. So far my summer vacation hasn't really been much of a vacation. Even though I still have a little painting to do, the house is clean and ready to show to prospective buyers. I don't have any major projects left to take care of. So, I'm going to take my time and start working on lesson plans, keep the house and laundry in shape, and spend more time relaxing. Once the school year starts that is hard to do.
Again, I am reminded to "be still and know that I am God". It's hard to listen to God in the hustle and bustle of everyday life. I know I can't go "into the woods" every time I need to hear something from God, but I need to be able to stop, relax, take some time and listen.
Have a great week!
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Trust
Trust, faith, belief, security...this concept has to be one of the biggest struggles in life...at least for me, it is. I am the queen of "second guessing". I believe I am following God's leading in life and then the first time there is even the hint of a problem, I start second guessing. Was I really listening? Was I just following what I wanted to do? Did I make the wrong choice?
I read something this morning that was like a "refrigerator" moment. (You know, when the kitchen is totally dark in the middle of the night and you open the refrigerator and suddenly everything is visible.) "Trusting God doesn't alter our circumstances. Perfect trust in Him changes us."
This is an issue that I've been thinking a lot about lately. Following God, trusting Him, having faith...really isn't EVER easy. I was really reminded of this last Sunday at church. Scott (our soon-to-be-former pastor) and his family are following God's leading. He has led them to leave the church and people they love and head off to another church. Scott has faith and believes that He is following God's leading...but it's obvious that this has not been an easy decision for anyone. There is a lot of heart break and pain. It's never easy leaving those you love and a place where you are comfortable. It would probably be easier for them to stay comfortably right where they are. But, that's not what God has in mind for any of us.
He doesn't always give us "easy". The key is (for me anyway) to realize that just because I have faith in God doesn't mean my life is suddenly going to get easier. However, because I have faith in God, my attitude towards the tough times should be different. I have to realize that these times are a time for me to grow and learn...and because of the changes in ME, I can still trust God and the plans He has for me.
Have a great day!
I read something this morning that was like a "refrigerator" moment. (You know, when the kitchen is totally dark in the middle of the night and you open the refrigerator and suddenly everything is visible.) "Trusting God doesn't alter our circumstances. Perfect trust in Him changes us."
This is an issue that I've been thinking a lot about lately. Following God, trusting Him, having faith...really isn't EVER easy. I was really reminded of this last Sunday at church. Scott (our soon-to-be-former pastor) and his family are following God's leading. He has led them to leave the church and people they love and head off to another church. Scott has faith and believes that He is following God's leading...but it's obvious that this has not been an easy decision for anyone. There is a lot of heart break and pain. It's never easy leaving those you love and a place where you are comfortable. It would probably be easier for them to stay comfortably right where they are. But, that's not what God has in mind for any of us.
He doesn't always give us "easy". The key is (for me anyway) to realize that just because I have faith in God doesn't mean my life is suddenly going to get easier. However, because I have faith in God, my attitude towards the tough times should be different. I have to realize that these times are a time for me to grow and learn...and because of the changes in ME, I can still trust God and the plans He has for me.
Have a great day!
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Painting
What made me think I could paint 4 rooms in 3 days? So far, I have painted 1 room in 4 days. I think I'm doing something wrong.
The one room that is done (my bedroom) looks good. I finished it up and then put the room together. I have pictures on the wall and decor out and about. I'd be proud of that, except for the fact that we moved in here 6 months ago.
Zack thinks I'm crazy. After all, this house goes on the "market" tomorrow. But, I'm trying to help out the landlords. They have been really good to us...letting us move in without a deposit, not getting mad if the rent is late, etc. I'm trying to make it look "home-y" so that it will sell faster.
However, if it does sell fast, I'm in trouble. That means we have to move. I know that a move is coming...as a matter of fact, I'm looking forward to it. However, moving means that I need money and when you live pay check to pay check, it's not like there is a large bundle of money sitting there waiting for first, last and deposit.
Anyway, back to painting...I'm painting off-white (almost tan) walls white. That shouldn't be so hard. The walls and ceilings are stucco. I got the whole room painted, stepped back to admire my work, and what did I see...spotted walls. And WHY does it always look so easy on those home improvement shows? They pick up a roller, give it a couple swipes and TA-DA the room is miraculously a new color.
I also have learned that there is a correlation between the word paint and pain. I try to forget that I am getting older. My shoulders are telling me something else.
Enough avoidance therapy...I'm going to go try to get another wall done before we leave for church.
The one room that is done (my bedroom) looks good. I finished it up and then put the room together. I have pictures on the wall and decor out and about. I'd be proud of that, except for the fact that we moved in here 6 months ago.
Zack thinks I'm crazy. After all, this house goes on the "market" tomorrow. But, I'm trying to help out the landlords. They have been really good to us...letting us move in without a deposit, not getting mad if the rent is late, etc. I'm trying to make it look "home-y" so that it will sell faster.
However, if it does sell fast, I'm in trouble. That means we have to move. I know that a move is coming...as a matter of fact, I'm looking forward to it. However, moving means that I need money and when you live pay check to pay check, it's not like there is a large bundle of money sitting there waiting for first, last and deposit.
Anyway, back to painting...I'm painting off-white (almost tan) walls white. That shouldn't be so hard. The walls and ceilings are stucco. I got the whole room painted, stepped back to admire my work, and what did I see...spotted walls. And WHY does it always look so easy on those home improvement shows? They pick up a roller, give it a couple swipes and TA-DA the room is miraculously a new color.
I also have learned that there is a correlation between the word paint and pain. I try to forget that I am getting older. My shoulders are telling me something else.
Enough avoidance therapy...I'm going to go try to get another wall done before we leave for church.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Self Improvement
We spend much of our lives working on "self improvement". That's not a bad thing. My Dad always said, "even a barn needs a fresh coat of paint once in a while".
Physically is where I have issues. I don't seem to do well when it comes to physical self improvement. I remember when I got to college and one of my friends asked if she could pluck my eyebrows for me. She began plucking and after about 4 painful plucks I wanted to stop. (this was before waxing, I think) Another "friend" said, "no, let me do it". She proceeded to take a Q-tip and Nair (yes, hair REMOVER) and she did my eyebrows. I ended up with about 4 hairs over each eye...my bangs weren't quite long enough to cover it, so I walked around looking "surprised" for about 3 months. For some reason I thought if I had my eyes wide open and what was left of my eyebrows raised, no one would notice. I don't think that really worked.
I have had more episodes with my hair than I wish to recall. I always wanted "Sally Field when she was Gidget" hair. I wanted long, bouncy, straight...I got...well, not that. I have hair more like Diana Ross. (I'm aging myself here.) In other words, I'm a white woman with ethnic hair. I finally realized that all the straightening in the world wasn't going to help...so I gave up and went with a short cut. I could go to the best stylist in the world and get a personally designed hair cut and I promise you that a week later it would be round.
The one thing I THINK I can improve about it is the gray. I am not ready for gray yet...don't know when I will be. Maybe I'll be one of those 75 year old women with obviously colored hair (I don't think I'll ever have to pencil in the brows, they are still out of control). But hopefully, I will one day know the right color to use. I did it again yesterday. I went a couple of shades lighter than I usually do because I heard on "Shear Genius" (a Bravo reality show) that mature women should not go too dark because it will make them look older. So, I thought that by going a couple shades lighter, it would look more natural. But no, it doesn't matter what I use, I still look like I could be one of the Osborne (Ozzy and Sharon) kids. I just did it yesterday morning and have washed it twice since then trying to tone it down. Today I'm just going to wear all black, a lot of chains and "go with the flow".
I'm not even going to tell you about the fiasco with the tanning spray...just know that I won't be wearing shorts until it completely fades.
Physically is where I have issues. I don't seem to do well when it comes to physical self improvement. I remember when I got to college and one of my friends asked if she could pluck my eyebrows for me. She began plucking and after about 4 painful plucks I wanted to stop. (this was before waxing, I think) Another "friend" said, "no, let me do it". She proceeded to take a Q-tip and Nair (yes, hair REMOVER) and she did my eyebrows. I ended up with about 4 hairs over each eye...my bangs weren't quite long enough to cover it, so I walked around looking "surprised" for about 3 months. For some reason I thought if I had my eyes wide open and what was left of my eyebrows raised, no one would notice. I don't think that really worked.
I have had more episodes with my hair than I wish to recall. I always wanted "Sally Field when she was Gidget" hair. I wanted long, bouncy, straight...I got...well, not that. I have hair more like Diana Ross. (I'm aging myself here.) In other words, I'm a white woman with ethnic hair. I finally realized that all the straightening in the world wasn't going to help...so I gave up and went with a short cut. I could go to the best stylist in the world and get a personally designed hair cut and I promise you that a week later it would be round.
The one thing I THINK I can improve about it is the gray. I am not ready for gray yet...don't know when I will be. Maybe I'll be one of those 75 year old women with obviously colored hair (I don't think I'll ever have to pencil in the brows, they are still out of control). But hopefully, I will one day know the right color to use. I did it again yesterday. I went a couple of shades lighter than I usually do because I heard on "Shear Genius" (a Bravo reality show) that mature women should not go too dark because it will make them look older. So, I thought that by going a couple shades lighter, it would look more natural. But no, it doesn't matter what I use, I still look like I could be one of the Osborne (Ozzy and Sharon) kids. I just did it yesterday morning and have washed it twice since then trying to tone it down. Today I'm just going to wear all black, a lot of chains and "go with the flow".
I'm not even going to tell you about the fiasco with the tanning spray...just know that I won't be wearing shorts until it completely fades.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
No clever title
During the school year I wake up at 4:30 am. I get up quickly (at least until around March) and make my coffee...then sit with a cup or two while I have my devotions, play on the computer for a few minutes and then slowly get ready for my day. I have been looking forward to summer since...well, for quite a while. I was looking forward to long leisurely mornings...waking up whenever, having my coffee, not getting dressed until I absolutely had to...aaaah, summer.
Here's the problem. The first week, I kept waking up with a knot in my stomach, thinking I was LATE. Once the realization hit me that I didn't have to be anywhere anytime soon, I waited for the "nervousness" in my stomach to calm down. The problem...it hasn't.
Now, during my childhood, we dealt constantly with my Mom's "nerves". She woke up (and probably still does) nervous EVERYDAY. My Mom never takes a day off. When I am on the phone with her, she is constantly talking about ALL that she has to do. What could she have to do? She is 78, has a husband, a dog and that's about it. How dirty could her house be? How much laundry could she really have? That's just her way. I know that.
But her "nerves" controlled our lives. When she was frantic and hysterical (for no reason), my Dad would say, "you guys behave, your Mom's nerves are acting up". I realized, as I grew older, that had she ever gone to a good doctor or counselor, her "nerves" probably would have had a name. (manic depression, bipolar something or other, etc)
Now, here I am, waking up "nervous" every morning. It's almost like an overwhelming feeling of guilt. I begin the day thinking "I've got to....I need to....I have to...". I can't blame it on the coffee because it starts before the coffee is even in the pot. Is this heredity? Do I have some genetic malfunction that causes "nerves"? Maybe...but the difference here is...I refuse to let it get me.
God and I are discussing it on a daily basis. I'm writing about it in my journal and now here, publicy (for all 5 of my readers). I'm making little lists of things that I really need to do during the day, and slowly, I am getting them done. I am stopping a few times a day and relaxing...even when there are still rooms to paint, boxes to move, dishes to do, etc. etc. etc. I have lots of time to get these things done. I even survived a surprise, drop in visit from one of my friends yesterday. When I saw her car pull in, my immediate reaction was..."oh, no, my house is a disaster!". I wanted to hide, but she'd already seen me. But then I realized...she loves me...not because of the way my house looks, but because I'm ME.
If this continues, I will do what Mom wouldn't do...I will discuss it with a professional. Maybe I'll be relieved to find that it's part of menopause...or my diet (or lack thereof)...or something else. Maybe I'll need to take a pill...I hope not...I hate taking pills. Maybe God and I will get it handled without any outside help. Whatever "it" is...I refuse to be controlled.
Here's the problem. The first week, I kept waking up with a knot in my stomach, thinking I was LATE. Once the realization hit me that I didn't have to be anywhere anytime soon, I waited for the "nervousness" in my stomach to calm down. The problem...it hasn't.
Now, during my childhood, we dealt constantly with my Mom's "nerves". She woke up (and probably still does) nervous EVERYDAY. My Mom never takes a day off. When I am on the phone with her, she is constantly talking about ALL that she has to do. What could she have to do? She is 78, has a husband, a dog and that's about it. How dirty could her house be? How much laundry could she really have? That's just her way. I know that.
But her "nerves" controlled our lives. When she was frantic and hysterical (for no reason), my Dad would say, "you guys behave, your Mom's nerves are acting up". I realized, as I grew older, that had she ever gone to a good doctor or counselor, her "nerves" probably would have had a name. (manic depression, bipolar something or other, etc)
Now, here I am, waking up "nervous" every morning. It's almost like an overwhelming feeling of guilt. I begin the day thinking "I've got to....I need to....I have to...". I can't blame it on the coffee because it starts before the coffee is even in the pot. Is this heredity? Do I have some genetic malfunction that causes "nerves"? Maybe...but the difference here is...I refuse to let it get me.
God and I are discussing it on a daily basis. I'm writing about it in my journal and now here, publicy (for all 5 of my readers). I'm making little lists of things that I really need to do during the day, and slowly, I am getting them done. I am stopping a few times a day and relaxing...even when there are still rooms to paint, boxes to move, dishes to do, etc. etc. etc. I have lots of time to get these things done. I even survived a surprise, drop in visit from one of my friends yesterday. When I saw her car pull in, my immediate reaction was..."oh, no, my house is a disaster!". I wanted to hide, but she'd already seen me. But then I realized...she loves me...not because of the way my house looks, but because I'm ME.
If this continues, I will do what Mom wouldn't do...I will discuss it with a professional. Maybe I'll be relieved to find that it's part of menopause...or my diet (or lack thereof)...or something else. Maybe I'll need to take a pill...I hope not...I hate taking pills. Maybe God and I will get it handled without any outside help. Whatever "it" is...I refuse to be controlled.
Monday, July 7, 2008
Endings and Beginnings
So, my Pastor is leaving. He and his family have accepted a calling to another church. They aren't leaving the state...just moving to another location. Endings are always sad and hard...change is never easy.
BUT with every ending, there is a new beginning. I love the church that I go to. Oh, I get frustrated sometimes...usual "church" things. I am excited to see what this new beginning means to our church. Don't get me wrong...not really excited to lose Scott...but again, can't help but wonder who God is planning to replace him with.
My life seems to be full of endings and beginnings. I just began a new job this year and completely fell in love with the kids, the school, the staff...and then the year ended just as I found out that I am being transferred to another school. I have spent my time "grieving" (and whining and complaining) over this change...but again...my life is not my own. I belong to God and He is the one making the plans for my life. (when I don't jump ahead of Him) So, now I am working at (yes, I have to be the one making an effort) thinking about the great adventures ahead of me in this new beginning. I am thinking about the new subjects, new classroom, new kids, new friends, and new experiences that are coming up in another new stage of my life.
Now, I need to make a new beginning on this day!
BUT with every ending, there is a new beginning. I love the church that I go to. Oh, I get frustrated sometimes...usual "church" things. I am excited to see what this new beginning means to our church. Don't get me wrong...not really excited to lose Scott...but again, can't help but wonder who God is planning to replace him with.
My life seems to be full of endings and beginnings. I just began a new job this year and completely fell in love with the kids, the school, the staff...and then the year ended just as I found out that I am being transferred to another school. I have spent my time "grieving" (and whining and complaining) over this change...but again...my life is not my own. I belong to God and He is the one making the plans for my life. (when I don't jump ahead of Him) So, now I am working at (yes, I have to be the one making an effort) thinking about the great adventures ahead of me in this new beginning. I am thinking about the new subjects, new classroom, new kids, new friends, and new experiences that are coming up in another new stage of my life.
Now, I need to make a new beginning on this day!
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