Tuesday, March 29, 2011

A matter of perspective

Today, I took out my disposable eye contacts and put on my glasses, to give my eyes a breath of fresh air. Carter naturally wanted to try them on. It didn't take him long to look down and the floor and say, "Woah, that's far away!"

I'm coming back days later to edit. 

On a grander scale, I see that this little scenario is an allegory for life. Isn't it true that the truth of what's going on around us seems skewed and off if we are not looking at it through the right lenses (or perspective)? Just the other day, I shared a link on facebook. It was to an article on Oprah's website called "How to be an Optimist." Here is is... Go take a look at it and then come back.

How to be an Optimist 

I don't know if he was being sarcastic or honest, but one friend's reply to this post was, "It's easy to be an optomist when you have Oprah-money."

Now I don't need to go any further, do I? 

Friday, March 25, 2011

Jackson so sad

It started yesterday at 1:30 when I got a phone call from the school principal, Dr. Council. She said Jackson was in the office not feeling well. He had complained of a tummy ache, and they had taken his temperature, which was fine. I said I'd be right there.

When I got there, I frankly was not up for the struggle that is convincing Jackson to stick it out and stay for the remaining two hours of the day. So, we swiftly signed out, and headed upstairs to his classroom to gather up his things. On the way, he mentioned that he had a substitute teacher. I think I asked him, "Do you like her?" or something like that, and I ***thought*** I heard him say, "She's fine."

Then, when we got to his classroom, the rest of the class was away (maybe art or PE? I don't know...), but the substitute teacher was there. Sitting in the dark at the teacher's desk, eating her lunch. She seemed rather... not nice. I stood at the door with Carter, and waited for Jackson, as he entered the room, grabbed his things, and headed back out. I would have expected that she would have acknowledged him, possibly saying something like, "Sorry you're not feeling well. Hope you feel better soon." or even "Goodbye." Not a word. The only words spoken were by me when we got there. I think I said (with a smile! big surprise!!!), "Jackson's not feeling well, so I'm checking him out early." No reply. Maybe just a shrug.

Turns out, she's going to be subbing again today (Friday).

So, all afternoon, he put on a good front; Possibly feeling bad, but I'm actually not sure. He did go without food from breakfast all the way to supper time, when he ate a half a bowl of chicken noodle soup. He's hard to read, and can tend to be a *decent* little liar when he wants to be. At bedtime, I told him that he would be going to school tomorrow, and that I knew that a good night's sleep was just what he needed. Then he spilled it...

He said that she was mean (and that he had never said "she's fine" but rather, "she's mean"). A whole host of other words that very closely relate to "mean" were rattled off: unfriendly, awful, disagreeable, etc. I basically gave him a little talk about how "that's life" and there will be mean people you encounter from time to time. I also told him to feel sorry for her, because she's got to live with herself all day, every day! ;)

So, this morning the dilemma remained. He felt like pouting his way out of it was going to work, but unfortunately, it did not. He did try awfully hard though, making sure I knew that she was, in fact, the "MEANEST person he'd EVER EVER met." Truly it doesn't surprise me. I read her as truly "the meanest person Jackson has ever met." Totally fair. Bless his heart.

Days like today, I wish I could allow him to take the easy route, and steer clear of any confrontation or less-than-enjoyable encounters. This *is* my first born son, forever my baby, we're talking about! Hopefully, while he's at school, he'll follow what I encouraged, and kill her with kindness. (And not make her mad!)

Thursday, March 24, 2011

The Sun

Isn't it something how even a 3 week old yellow squash plant knows how to find the sun? It knows the source of its strength, and where it can look for nourishment and life.
I know that there's another Son; one that also gives strength, nourishment, and life. Even Everlasting Life. If you see me "bending," know I'm doing my best to bend toward Him.

Sunday, March 6, 2011

Episode 2 of "Lines from the Hymnal"

If you missed Episode 1, just click here.

"Oh, how praying rests the weary. Prayer will change the night to day."

OOOOOORRRRR. Prayer can make you even wearier! Oh, I kid... kind of.
I don't really know why I'm typing this out, except for recording the memory. It really wasn't so bad...

On Wednesdays, I am rather busy. "Typical" busy till 3:45, but at that point, when I pick up the boys from school, the (figurative) motor stars revving up, prepping for a race. There's:

*getting dinner going soon after walking back in the door.
*settling the drama that HAS to happen when my 3 monsters angels are reunited for the first time since 8:50am. the "he hit me!" "you started it!" drama. joy.
*homework. bloody homework.
*teaching 3 piano lessons from 4:30-6:00.
*eating a quick bite between 6:15 & 6:30
*heading out the door at 6:30 for my church calling as a mentor/leader for the young women at The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
*getting home around 8:45-9pm.

And this past Wednesday was no exception. THAT was when I prayed. I generally pray daily - and many times. We pray over our meals, and always at bedtime, too. But on this day, I was prompted to do so, right in the middle of the day. 1:30 pm, to be exact. I just felt an urge, you could say. As I started to pray, what I experienced was a specific instruction about what to pray for. It was "for strength to get through the rest of the day." So, I did. I prayed for exactly that; "strength to get through the rest of the day."

Then, more words and promptings came into my mind. The prayer took a turn to Rodney's welfare. I prayed that he would be safe as he traveled home from work that day. For a moment after uttering that prayer (in my mind), I waited for what else I should say or do. Immediately, I had the impression that I should ask Rodney to stay at work "five minutes late." My innate reaction was to wonder, mid-prayer, if I was just imagining things. Doubt crept in for a moment, and I literally tried to talk myself out of believing that it was indeed a whispering from the still, small voice. Then, just as the still, small voice does, He assured me that I should do it. So I did. The email was sent at 1:41pm. He received it quickly, replied, and lovingly accepted the instruction I gave him to please stay five minutes late. I spent the following little while rather worried. I actually felt like crying, but tears never flowed. I felt a little bit of anxiety, but much moreso, I felt comfort and peace. I love that word.

So, this is when I'm supposed to tell of the extraordinary thing that happened on the way home; of the wreck that he passed that he SURELY would have been a part of, had I not listened and followed. But, there is no such tale to tell. I am thankful for that.

I have pondered on the happenings of Wednesday quite a bit since. This is what I've come up with. PRAYER and promptings from the Holy Ghost are like a radio signal between Heaven and Earth. If the radio (my soul, my mind, my heart, my ability to receive the radio waves) is not in tune with the message, then what good is the radio? or the signal that is trying to reach it? I believe that in the ever-present static of life, we must stop what we're doing and tune. in. our. antennas. and. listen. In this case, I know that my Heavenly Father was aware of me. Likewise, I was aware of Him. I am his daughter, He, my father. He loves me, and wants to take care of me. He prompted me this day to feel of His presence. I have proven myself - I WILL stop and tune in. If I don't, there's one person to blame for the resulting lack of inspiration and insight. Myself. And "Myself" doesn't do well with blame. She doesn't wanna touch it with a mile-long pole.

Prayer WILL change the night to day. And even give you a mighty dose of strength when needed.

For more from this gem of a hymn, visit here.