Tough Love

I see the panic in his face as he walks across the wet floor. His arms are crossed together in front of him as he shivers in the cool air. Cautiously he walks toward the diving board and the deep pool of water. Today is the day his swimming class jumps off the diving board for the first time. I know he is scared and doesn’t want to jump. I know he is afraid of the water. I know this is really hard for him. I want so badly to leave my seat on the bleachers, to open the gate that separates spectators from swimmers, to run and hug him and tell him he doesn’t have to jump. But I stay in my seat, lock my eyes on his 8-year-old body, and offer a silent prayer for him. He climbs on the diving board and walks forward, grasping a large orange swimming noodle around his waist. His teacher follows behind him. As he stands at the edge of the board, the teacher softly encourages him and, holding the edges of the noodle, lifts him off the board and gently drops him into the water. He did it! And he does it again and again. I’m so proud of him. I can't wait to give him a high-five after class.

As I watched my second graders go through their two-week swimming lessons at the Aquatic Center, I saw differences in their personalities and comfort level with swimming. Some loved the water and swam like fish; others were more fearful of the entire experience. My attention was most often focused on the “beginner” group, partly because that’s where I belong (I flunked swimming lessons as a child and now rely primarily on the back float and “doggie paddle”), but also because I know it’s difficult for them. As a teacher who loves them, I wish they didn’t have to do something that’s so hard for them.

I also feel for my students that struggle with some area of schoolwork or the social aspect of school. I love “my” kids. I want them to be happy. I want them to understand things the first time. I want them to have friends. I want life to be easy for them. But that doesn’t always happen. And I hurt when they hurt.

And yet, it’s often in the struggles that we learn the most. There is joy in finally succeeding and overcoming obstacles. Besides, I also want my students to learn perseverance and courage and compassion. These life skills are developed through struggles. So I continue to do my job: guide, teach, and love these children. Praise them for their successes and encourage them amidst their struggles. And pray for them.

Words

I’ve just spent three delightful days immersed in literature at Calvin College’s Festival of Faith and Writing. Well, actually two of the days were delightful. By Saturday I had developed the typical “brain freeze” that usually accompanies conferences lasting longer than a day, and I walked around in a bit of a fog. But still. What a gift to spend three days listening to stories, poems, and essays by the very people who created them and learn about their creative process and life experiences. And even more, to hear how their faith impacts their writing.

Language is a gift from God. Words themselves are a gift from God. The very idea of communicating - both with God and other people - is such a wonderful and important gift from God. I enjoyed hearing from authors Wally Lamb, Lisa Samson, Peter Manseau, Scott Cairns, Avi, Kate diCamillo, and Sally Lloyd-Jones, as well as others. Although some write for adults and others write primarily for children, a common theme emerged: the interdependence we have with each other. We are relational people, and language - words - reflects that.

Kate diCamillo spoke about the fact that life is both beautiful and difficult and literature (for adults and children) should reflect both these truths. Lisa Samson shared how her novels portray her faith journey as she has learned to marry her belief and faith practices in books like Quaker Summer. Wally Lamb’s books deal with the theme of quest - his characters often search for the meaning of life, turning from some type of chaos to find order. And Peter Manseau and Dara Horn described how we find universal truth, even in books written about a specific culture or time period.

I come away from the conference with a renewed appreciation for the beauty of words, a desire to improve my own writing and the writing of my students, a recognition that published authors are “regular” people, and a challenge of recognizing who my neighbor is and how I impact them.

I also have a new reading list that will definitely last through the summer!

Spring Break

After a couple of very hectic winter months, it was so nice to relax at home during spring vacation this year. My only definite plans were to get my taxes finished and catch up on some reading. Thankfully, I accomplished both, although completing the taxes with Turbo Tax was looking doubtful for a couple days due to an "older and temperamental" home computer. The first day of vacation was unusually warm and sunny, so I spent most of the day sitting in the sun on the deck with my book - ahh!

In addition to reading and doing taxes, I found time to meet friends for lunch, coffee, and supper on different days. I also saw the musical "The Color Purple;" a great story of personal triumph over the hardships of life. Although I disagree with some of the morals of the show, I love how the main character grows and learns to accept herself and develop a sense of pride in who she is. The music is catchy, featuring gospel, jazz, and ragtime songs. And the overall mood of the musical is uplifting and life-affirming.

On the Tuesday of spring vacation, author Greg Mortinsen ("Three Cups of Tea") spoke at Grand Valley State University about how he is helping build schools in rural Afghanistan and Pakistan villages to educate the boys and girls in these countries. I've read his book and am inspired by the way one person can make a difference in the world. I got there early to make sure I could get in and am glad I was able to see him in person and hear his story first-hand.

After spending a day outside doing yard work, I treated myself to a massage at Design One Day Spa (yes, I can rationalize almost anything). And I spent the last two days of vacation on "spring cleaning" - cleaning the fridge and freezer, vacuuming the fridge coils, washing baseboards, cleaning under the sofa cushions, actually moving the bed to clean underneath, etc. My new goal is to keep the house picked up; it's been four days and things are still looking good.

Sometimes it's nice to just stay home during a vacation.

Easter 2010

It was a blessing to spend Easter afternoon with my family. After each attending Easter services at our own churches, we gathered at my parents' home for dinner. My sister and brother-in-law drove up with their two younger children and new puppy. What a cutie! After dinner we enjoyed the Frederick Meijer Gardens butterfly exhibit - lots of butterflies flying around on this sunny day. My niece and nephew enjoyed playing in the Children's Garden too. We missed my older nephew who stayed at his college for the weekend and my brother and sister-in-law who live in Siberia. Hopefully we'll all be together this summer.

Miss Daisy

John 3:16

A colleague shared this at our staff devotions this past week. I'm not sure who originally wrote it but thought it was worth sharing.

A little boy was selling newspapers on the corner, the people were in and out of the cold. The little boy was so cold that he wasn't trying to sell many papers.

He walked up to a policeman and said, "Mister, you wouldn't happen to know where a poor boy could find a warm place to sleep tonight would you? You see, I sleep in a box up around the corner there and down the alley and it's awful cold in there for tonight. Sure would be nice to have a warm place to stay."

The policeman looked down at the little boy and said, "You go down the street to that big white house and you knock on the door. When they come out the door you just say John 3:16, and they will let you in."

So he did. He walked up the steps and knocked on the door, and a lady answered. He looked up and said, "John 3:16." The lady said, "Come on in, Son."

She took him in and she sat him down in a split bottom rocker in front of a great big old fireplace, and she went off. The boy sat there for a while and thought to himself: John 3:16 ...I don't understand it, but it sure makes a cold boy warm.

Later she came back and asked him "Are you hungry?" He said, "Well, just a little. I haven't eaten in a couple of days, and I guess I could stand a little bit of food,"

The lady took him in the kitchen and sat him down to a table full of wonderful food.. He ate and ate until he couldn't eat any more. Then he thought to himself: John 3:16 ...Boy, I sure don't understand it but it sure makes a hungry boy full.

She took him upstairs to a bathroom to a huge bathtub filled with warm water, and he sat there and soaked for a while. As he soaked, he thought to himself: John 3:16 ... I sure don't understand it, but it sure makes a dirty boy clean. You know, I've not had a bath, a real bath, in my whole life. The only bath I ever had was when I stood in front of that big old fire hydrant as they flushed it out.

The lady came in and got him. She took him to a room, tucked him into a big old feather bed, pulled the covers up around his neck, kissed him goodnight and turned out the lights. As he lay in the darkness and looked out the window at the snow coming down on that cold night, he thought to himself: John 3:16 ...I don't understand it but it sure makes a tired boy rested.

The next morning the lady came back up and took him down again to that same big table full of food. After he ate, she took him back to that same big old split bottom rocker in front of the fireplace and picked up a big old Bible.

She sat down in front of him and looked into his young face. "Do you understand John 3:16?" she asked gently. He replied, "No, Ma'am, I don't. The first time I ever heard it was last night when the policeman told me to use it." She opened the Bible to John 3:16 and began to explain to him about Jesus. Right there, in front of that big old fireplace, he gave his heart and life to Jesus. He sat there and thought: John 3:16 -- don't understand it, but it sure makes a lost boy feel safe.

You know, I have to confess I don't understand it either, how God was willing to send His Son to die for me, and how Jesus would agree to do such a thing. I don't understand the agony of the Father and every angel in heaven as they watched Jesus suffer and die. I don't understand the intense love for ME that kept Jesus on the cross till the end. I don't understand it, but it sure does make life worth living.

John 3:16 For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.