What Was I Thinking?

Yesterday, I wrote about the necessity of being an active participant in a child's education. I have a few thoughts that I wish to add to this topic, now that I have had some time to converse a bit with teachers and parents on this topic. I think that every child wants to know that his parents (and the other significant adults in his or her life) care. What does this mean in a practical sense? I think it means giving time and attention, asking questions and showing interest. It means persisting. Do my dad and mom care about me? * Does he come to see me play my games? * Does he look over my homework or ask about the book I am reading for school? * Does she check my grades on the computer and try to help my solve my problems? * Does he notice when I am not myself and sit and listen when I need to pour out my messy thoughts and emotions? * Does she stay on my case even when I tell her to leave me alone, because she knows that, left alone, I can't help myself and things will only g...

"And we're back!" That's what they say to hosts of live broadcasts to let them know that the commercials have they can be seen and heard by their viewers. The Christmas holiday break has ended and now we're back - back to the business of school, working to finish the second quarter, to bring the first half of the school year to a close. Tomorrow may be one of those, "We interrupt this broadcast" kind of events, better known here in Baltimore during the winter as a snow day. The forecasters are calling for a few inches of the frozen white stuff, so regularly scheduled programming may be preempted by sledding and other snow day activities. I am preparing to teach a Bible college class called Essentials of Teaching. My first class is on Monday, and I am still waiting for the "Eureka!" moment of revelation when God tells me exactly what he expects me to teach that day and all the Mondays to follow. In my mind, I hope to give my students the most es...

The days before Christmas, I feel like Hansel from the Grimm's fairy tale - everywhere there are cookies and cakes and candies. I am glad that the only ovens around are small microwave ovens and no old ladies with warts are hoping I will taste good with gravy.   There is a little loaf of pumpkin bread, wrapped in cellophane and tied with a red ribbon resting just below the computer monitor as I write this. It is the traditional Christmas gift from the Hadley family, and I think that I may have to somehow get Hadley citizenship after Jack graduates in order to continue the tradition. Marie Hadley makes incredible pumpkin bread, and I have to restrain myself and ration it to make it last. What is the saying? Nothin' says lovin' like somethin' from the oven.   I am blessed by the outpouring of love that parents and students express at this time of year. Teaching can be a very thankless job, so any blessings are appreciated. Thank you for the photo Christmas cards, the Star...

I watched an Israeli movie yesterday afternoon called "For My Father." It was the story of a young Arab man who straps on a bomb and walks into a market in Tel Aviv to blow up himself and kill many Israelis in the process, only the detonator malfunctions. He has the option of having his handlers detonate him by remote control or trying to fix the detonator on his own. He chooses the latter, and ends up having to spend time getting to know the different people he is sacrificing his life to kill. In the process, we also come to discover why he has chosen to become a suicide bomber. What was interesting and moving for me in watching this movie was how this young man, sort of an agnostic Muslim, prayed each time he prepared to blow himself up, and yet lived in such despair all the while believing that somehow his sacrifice would improve the lot of his family. All the people he connected with had such sad lives, and the religious Jews depicted in the film made people's lives m...

The first snowfall of the year of any consequence and the nearness of Christmas have set children's hearts aflutter. Concentration was something they did last night during the play when they had to remember lines of dialogue, song lyrics, and where to stand (or crawl) on the stage. It is amazing what a little frozen precipitation floating down from the sky can do to the brains of people attending (and, if I am to be honest, working in) schools. I wonder if there is the same phenomenon in places like Alaska or Siberia where snow is as commonplace as sun and sand in the Sahara. Are Alaskan and Siberian school children driven to distraction by snowflakes? I was besieged by sixth, seventh, and eighth graders petitioning me to close the school and send them home, or, barring that, to declare that school be closed tomorrow, no matter what the City and County schools decide to do. The beseeching eyes, the hands clasped in prayerful supplication - I felt like I was back in Southeast Asia w...

The GGCA Christmas musical was just brilliant. I laughed. I cried. Literally. The menagerie of children being herded in costume across the stage - especially that camel - had me grinning from ear to ear and laughing along with the proud parents of the pride of lions trailing the shepherds toward Bethlehem. The beautiful songs, so sweetly sung, so full of truth, brought tears to my eyes. The Spirit of God was palpably present in the chapel, and those children ushered in such a powerful anointing... The entire service that followed was blessed by what happened in that play. I am still basking in the glow of the simple joy and beauty of the play. Thank you, Lord.

Time flies. It has been eleven days since my last posting, and I feel a little guilty for not writing sooner. That almost sounds like a confessional, doesn't it? "Forgive me, Reader, for I have sinned. It has been eleven days since my last blog entry."   Hmmm... What shall my penance be?   How about no needhams candies until I get to Maine next week? Nah. There's no penance in that. There are no needhams around here for me to eat anyway. "What are needhams?" you ask. Needhams are kind of like Mounds bars, only better, because they originated in Portland, Maine and they have a secret ingredient near and dear to a true Mainer's heart - mashed potatoes. Yes, mashed potatoes and flaked coconut and dark chocolate - so, so good! There will probably be some homemade needhams in my parents' refrigerator from a lady in the church... But I digress.   Penance. I suppose I could abstain from eating molasses donuts for the next week.That would be almost cruel and...