What Was I Thinking?

I know that I should probably write here more, but sometimes I think that I have to have something profound to say before I write. (I can hear you all saying, "Really? So all those postings were supposed to be profound? You could knock me over with a feather!) I think I need to get over this profundity expectation and hope that I just manage not to bore you. Today was a sweet day to be the principal of Greater Grace Christian Academy. I had three invitations to visit classrooms and one invitation to an after school meeting with some teachers.   I spent the ten o'clock hour in Mr. Janssen's biology class viewing the science posters they had made about different biomes and asking the students questions about their research. The students had worked in small groups of two or three to compose their posters to Mr. Janssen's specifications (he has had great experience creating scientific posters and presenting them at science conferences these past few summers for the Univers...

Sometimes I think that people do not know how good a school GGCA really is. Sometimes I think that people say to themselves, "Well... it's better than my local public school, but it's so small... I mean they only have one classroom per grade, and the building, well... it's really just a strip mall turned into classrooms, right? And the tuition... if it was a really good school, wouldn't they be charging a lot more? I mean, look at the private schools that have libraries and laboratories and teach languages starting in elementary school and have auditoriums for drama and music performances and lots of electives, extra curricular activities, and after school programs. Now, those are are really nice schools, and the students there are getting a quality education." Maybe these are just demonic projections and nobody has ever thought these things but me. But I do get asked quite often by students why GGCA doesn't have things that other schools do, and I do hear...

I woke this morning to the pitter-patter of raindrops on the walkway outside my house. I could hear them as I lay in my bed. It was tempting to just close my eyes and listen to that soothing sound, but I pushed the duvet off my body and rose to my feet and wobbled out through the bedroom door in the dim, gray light seeping through the blinds and found my way to the kitchen. As I sipped my orange juice, I looked out the kitchen window and watched the rain splatter on the panes and drizzle down. When he was a little guy, my nephew Austin pointed out the "crydrops" running down the kitchen window to my Grammy Dunbar. I loved that child-coined word - crydrops - and I still do, because it was so expressive.   I saw teardrops running down the face of man last night in a movie, and I thought to myself about how raindrops, drawn by the force of gravity, trace watery trails down a pane of glass just like teardrops wend their ways down a man's face. The movie was "End of the S...