Day In, Day Out

Should I be feeling this odd sense of guilt and obligation whenever I haven't updated this thing in a long while?

No.

Welllllll. My cell phone was recently borrowed (as long as I have hope of it returning to me, I will continue to say that it has only been borrowed and not stolen by you, stealthy 8th grade girl!) So a feeling of disconnection this week has pushed me to this desperate point- actually writing something on my blog.

Well folks, Justin has a job, and a great one at that. He is the Maintenance Coordinator for Mission Waco. ...close enough to ride his bike, wonderful co-workers, volunteers assist him from the male drug and alcohol rehab house, and this is sufficient fundage for his current needs!

He also just moved. He now lives at Barron estates with Cici and Tim Carter and Jared and Laura Himstead and with Ollie and Indie (puppies). His room is literally about 7x8 feet so he's building a loft for his bed.

I am enjoying my many jobs and accepting their challenges, occassionally even with grace. I'm learning a lot about race dynamics in these public schools and I have also gotten a smidgen better at managing the bahavior issues that come hand in hand with kids who live near the poverty line.

My days are almost always wonderful from 7:00 to 12:00, and it's the rest of my afternoon that cause me to long for the weekend. Garden clubs are where my frustrations lie. I am no good with kids from grades 3-12. God help me if I ever find myself thrown into youth ministry. Last week I left Sul Ross garden club beside myself with irritation. This week at Brazos Middle School my phone walked off. My attempts at being seen as fun and caring and interested in these kids personally sometimes backfires- especially with 6-8th grade kids. I am not seen as someone to be respected or trusted so they're leery of me. They do not think I am cool, they do not think what we are doing is interesting, they don't want their pants, shoes, or hands to get dirt on them, and they don't want a hippie white lady teaching them about organic gardening...I am the object of a lot of jokes and laughter throughout my 60 minutes/week at BMS. slowly, slowly.


My house, my church, my kitchen and my garden are my refuge. On MLK day I baked Christmas cookies and that brightened my perspective on things. That day and the following inaugural day made me happy and give me excitement for the future.


In other news, I need braces. Yippee $3,500!!



Well, I have garden club preparations to do.


Peace

everything will change

we'll give ourselves new names...

I kinda want my old name back.
There is something missing in me that I cannot put my finger on. I've vaguely heard its echoes and sensed the void of its presence, and though I cannot name it, I know when I lost it. This something flew the coop last year, post-disaster, when I realized that things on which I had previously counted to be stable were indeed quite shakable. And the epicenter was my soul.

Before then my eyes were cloudy, sheltered from a measure of the darkness of this temporal world. And though the clouds have been removed, I feel like I have been given scales to replace them.

Shawn said, "Someday this will be ten years ago." I had to remind myself every hour of the day:

"It is a new day."
and
"Breathe."

Be still my soul, the Lord is on thy side,
Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain.
Leave to thy God to order and provide,
In every change He faithful will remain.

We'll give ourselves new names.
The sun will heat the ground under our bare feet in this brand new colony


Shalom