Waiting to Dive

I’m standing on this diving board, Lord, ready to jump in when you blow the whistle. I’ve got my suit on. There are sparkles from the sun dancing along the surface of the clear blue water. I’m just waiting for your cue.

I’m a little nervous. What if I’m not a good swimmer? But oh, I see that red tube over there on the side, and I know you’ll throw it to me if I start to sink. You’ve got this, and I’m ready when you are. Just say the word.

It’s getting a little hot out here. I’m starting to glisten – not sweat of course – just sort of shimmer with perspiration. Do you want me to jump in? Or should I take a step back and sit down on that lawn chair? I could do some journaling or read a magazine. I could even drink some iced tea and chat with a friend. So, what do you want?

 

I’ll wait here a bit longer. Wow, I can really feel the sun now. I should probably reapply the sunscreen soon. My shoulders will be a little red in the morning. And my nose. My nose always burns first.

I wiggle my toes, feeling the rough surface of the long white plank beneath my feet. My toenail polish is starting to chip. I blow a strand of hair off of my forehead and I reach up to the sky – reaching high – and trace the clouds that dance above my head. I stretch my neck from side to side, trying to loosen up. It’s sort of tiring, just standing here. 

And it’s getting a little awkward, really. I feel pretty vulnerable in my suit and all, but not getting wet.

I really don’t have to jump in, you know. You could call me off the board. I could take a quick nap in the shade. I could give up swimming altogether, get dressed, and go fishing at the lake. I think the pole is already baited in the shed. I could get a pad of paper and sketch the flowers in the garden. I could bake some cookies and bring them next door.

Ok, I guess I’ll stand here a little longer. I’ll wait on your timing. “Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.” Psalm 27:14

A little reflecting

Kids were in bed. Not quiet, but in bed. My husband left to fill the car with gas. I wanted to sit in my cozy fleece sheets and scroll through Pinterest on my phone.

But I cleaned up the house. It's amazing what 30 minutes will do.

I just didn't want to start Monday behind.

I don't always make that choice. I hate having to be responsible. I think Heaven will be one big pot of creativity, and we'll get to dance in the wind, finger painting the sky.

But until then, I have to learn faithfulness.

35 years and I'm still learning.

And I get frustrated that my children haven't learned it yet.

So I also need to learn gracious patience.

My dishwasher is humming. Pandora is playing. My husband will roll back in the driveway any minute.

Goodnight everyone.

I am the sunflower

After an unseasonably long winter followed by a cool summer, I'm beginning to wilt.

Bundled in a long-sleeved shirt, sweatshirt, and jeans, I went to the Indiana State Fair and saw this sad sight:

And I thought, that's a little like me, right now.

Summers of Indiana Past, I remember you.

Hot, 95 degree days. Humidity so thick you can drink it. Feeling the heat burn through your shirt and lighting a fire on your skin. Reading a book in the full afternoon sun while sipping iced tea.

I don't think I've ever complained about the heat. Even when our summer was so hot, our neighborhood pool felt like a hot tub, I didn't complain. I love the heat.

And without it, I'm starting to wither a little bit inside.

Shallow? Maybe.

And yet there are people rejoicing. My husband says this is the best Indiana summer EVER.

I roll my eyes.

And contemplate moving even further south.

Or buying a heat lamp.


You get the idea.

There are plants that thrive in the coolness of the summer. But like tomatoes. And roses. And that poor sunflower. I miss the heat.

Here's a haiku poem about it:

Indy in Summer

Remember 90 degrees

How I long for you

The Magic Ring: 20 Minute Free-Writing

20 Minute Free-Writing
Topic: A girls find a diamond ring on the bus

GO:

Bump. Bump. Bump. Screech. Our yellow bus began to slow near my stop.

Carefully peeling my legs off of the hot, plastic bench, I scooted to the aisle. Flinging my backpack over my shoulder, I stood, just as the bus made a final jerk, lunging me down to the ground. I wish I were wearing jeans, I thought, examining the small stones that had planted themselves in my knees.

Tucking my long bangs behind my ear, I went to stand up, but then I caught a glimpse of a shiny object under the seat. Bravely, I pushed through the years of dirt and took hold of a small, hard object. Brushing it off, I could tell it was a ring, but I didn’t have time to examine it.

“Are you getting off or not?” the boy behind me asked rudely. In my mind, I replied powerfully, putting him in his place. But in reality, I simply kept my tongue quiet, forced the ring into the tight front pocket of my shorts, and sauntered forward.

I was only a block from my house. I kept the ring hidden, not wanting to share my treasure with any of the kids at my stop. I passed a row of perfectly manicured homes before I saw my own – a mess of weeds and overgrown bushes. My mom always said that dandelions deserved a chance to grow, but I wasn’t so sure. I was already different. I wished our home didn’t have to be different too.

Flipping up the shabby welcome mat that had seen better days, I grabbed the key and pushed the door in with my shoulder, letting the screen door slam. Mom would hate that, but she wasn’t home to hear it.

I dumped my bag in the middle of the hallway, poured a glass of milk, and sat down at the table where the afternoon sun was magnifying its scratched surface. The ring was hard and round, with a hint of shimmer mixed with lint. I rubbed it vigorously onto my t-shirt to remove some of the grime. As the dirt was rubbed away, the ring began to glow. A smile spread across my face for the first time that day. Maybe that week.

Without hesitating, I slipped it easily onto my finger. And in that moment, everything disappeared.  

STOP

While teaching the girls creative writing this year, I'm going to be writing myself. We're using Gail Carson Levine's book Writing Magic as our inspiration, and we're taking creative liberties from there.

So far, it's been fun! I'm amazed at what the girls come up with. For this topic, A13 wrote a story around the Harry Potter series, and K11 started a mystery.

As Levine advises, "The way to becoming a better writer is to write more."

I wish I were different

I've been thinking about what I would change if I could snap my fingers and *poof* I'd be different. Not physically like my nose or my arm hair. Or the big things, like "never sin again," but just the other stuff. (Not a deep post here, folks.) This is one of the things:

I wish I woke up happy. 

I'd love to be able to wake up with a smile, greeting the world with a thankful "hello," excited to be blessed with a new day. My reality is a groan. I usually hear Lee's alarm first. And then I fall back into a dream-filled restless sleep until my alarm goes off. I grumble, hit the snooze button, you get the picture. (I'm always able to lie to myself that I'll pray during my seven minute snooze, and I can't believe I still fall for it.)

I wish this weren't the case, but I don't know how to change it.


And just for fun, here's a picture of my alarm clock I've had since 3rd grade. We've tried other clocks now and then, but they always break. This one is old reliable. Guaranteed to buzz obnoxiously just when I don't want it to.

So there you go. What comes to your mind?

How to fix number reversals in 5 minutes

My 8 year old boy still reverses many numbers and letters. From experience with his sisters, I'm pretty sure that learning cursive this fall will help with the letters, but I was at a loss as to how to correct his numbers.

I drew a correct and incorrect 7. He couldn't choose the right one. The same with 5, 3, 2, 6, and 9.

After a little internet reading, we figured it out!

Hold up your right hand (the one with the pencil) and form a C.

This is the shape of the opening to the 2, 3, 5, and 7. Curve it a little and you get the 4 as well. (He caught onto this very quickly.)

For the letter d, I'd already taught him that his donut rolled off the table and hit a wall. (Get out a piece of paper, draw a donut, and expain what happened, drawing the line for the wall.)

So keeping with that wall theme, we pretended that 9 donuts ran up the wall and got stuck up there. (Using the paper, I drew nine lines going up the wall, counting them all out.)

But, the 6th donut rolled up and over to the other side of the wall. (Creating the number 6).

I explained 9 and 6 again, drawing it out again. Then he told me the stories.

I had him write his numbers twice.

He did them all correctly, with a little excited giggling from both of us.

Time will tell if this will stick, but I'm thinking our number reversal problems are fixed!

I hope this helps some of your kiddos!

4 Book Reviews, 4 Minutes Each... Go!

I've recently read 4 books and am going to review them quickly - giving myself only 4 minutes for each book. You will appreciate this time-limit. Trust me. I could go on and on about each of them. Thankfully, I'm a super fast typer, and I'll try to fit a bunch in.

Ready? Go!

Crazy Busy by Kevin DeYoung

Kevin DeYoung starts out light hearted and keeps me laughing through the whole book. He goes at it with an "I'm in this with you" attitude rather than an "I've fixed my problems" plattitude.

He says:

"It's ok to be busy at times. You can't love and serve others without giving of your time. So work hard; work long; work often. Just remember it's not supposed to be about you. Feed people, not your pride."

My biggest take-aways:

1. He explains that many Christians seem to be walking around "with a low-level guilt that comes from not doing enough... so we get used to living in a state of mild disappointment with ourselves." Boy, I can relate.
2. I am not the Christ. I can care about AIDS and Homelessness and Orphans and etc etc but it's not my mission in life to solve every-single-crisis-that-I-read-about-on-Facebook.
3. Even Jesus didn't do all the good He could have done in the world. He didn't heal everyone. He didn't fix everything. (From our earthly perspective.)  "He was not driven by the needs of others... the approval of others... but by the Holy Spirit. He was driven by His God-given mission."
4. It's important to have margins in my life, so that when one brick topples a little, the whole tower doesn't collapse. (Meaning, someone can't find their shoes fast enough and I explode. Just saying.)
5. Being too busy is bad for our souls if we don't make time for our relationship with God.
6. Focus point: What am I uniquely gifted to do? Start there.

Whoops, lost track of time. NEXT!

Family Vocation by Gene Edward Veith Jr. and Mary J. Moerbe

This father-daughter team explains Martin Luther's drive to have all people seen as valuable in God's Kingdom by raising the family and parenting roles as critical vocations during a time when the only vocations that mattered were in the church. They indicate that most moms today would find the job of a nun in a monastery to be freeing and easy. Basically, we are all important in God's kingdom.

"Husbands and wives nurture each other. Fathers and mothers nurture their children. And God nurtures everyone through these offices."

The main emphasis was in getting your eyes off of yourself and onto God and others by sacrificing for them. "Beloved, if God so loved us, we also ought to love one another." I John 4:10-11.

They explain, "Though God doesn't need our good works, our neighbor does. Our neighbor is in need. God commands us to love and serve that neighbor."

In recap, the book encouraged me to work hard with hands as unto the Lord, with renewed eyes that every single cup of water given and every snotty nose wiped matters for His Kingdom.

Whew... Number 3.

The Hawk and the Dove Trilogy by Penelope Wilcock

It was interesting to read this immediately after the book about Martin Luther's criticism of the priesthood's elitism. In this Historical Fiction novel, we grow to love the lives of the men in the monastery under the careful eye of their Abbott Peregrine. This is a book that beautifully combines theology and relationships, and I savored every word. What a delightful story. Slow moving, but meaningful. I even underlined some passages I want to go back to and remember. Like when Peregrine argued that God's mercy was greater than His justice.

If you're looking for a delightful and endearing summer read, pick this up. It was on my booklist for our school year's study of the middle ages. I ordinarily wouldn't be drawn to a book about a bunch of men in a monestary. But I'm glad I listened to my brother's advice and read it to the end.

And finally...

7: An experimental mutiny against excess by Jen Hatmaker

Jen does an experiment by limiting herself in specific ways for 7 months. Only eating 7 foods, giving up 7 forms of media. Wearing 7 items of clothing. You get the idea.

The book was so funny. I laughed out loud a lot.

The book was painful. Ouch. Like, "I don't like you now, Jen. You had me laughing, and now we're no longer BFFs."

I'm glad I'd already read Crazy Busy because otherwise Jen's book would cause my "do more" personality to add about fifty more things to my to-do list. I had to repeat to myself often while reading, "I am not the Christ." Which is strange since the goal of the book is to simplify...

I haven't fully processed the book. It's going to sit and simmer a while in my mind. I will probably never garden and I can't seem to rationalize spending more money to buy local food and I can't possibly fathom giving away 75% of our income.... but the ideas were intriguing. Basically, live simply and give more. That I like!


So there you have it. A glimpse into my book world for the last month or so.

What are you reading? If you want to borrow any of these, let me know!