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Archive for the ‘Spiritual Growth’ Category

Join the Spiritual Thursday round up at Reading, Teaching, Learning.

Join the Spiritual Thursday round up at Reading, Teaching, Learning.

 

There are reflections that can be tough to write.  I thank Holly for offering this spiritual space for me to write the tough stuff.

An angel entered my life and left quickly, but I feel his presence still.  When I first found out that C. would be joining my class, the directive came with a large stack of paper.  The papers told a story of a troubled boy, adopted,  who began his life with seizures.  The story unfolded with a diagnosis of superior intellect, ADHD, ODD, depression, and Asperger’s.  Who was the child who was going to enter my classroom?

On the day I set out to meet him, he was in line with his class returning from lunch. He was being yelled at to stop.  He was ignoring the directive.  He continued looking forward and following his class.  “Which one is he?” I inquired.  Blonde hair, blue eyes and a focused stare straight ahead.  His mother was subsequently called to come pick him up.  He was being defiant.

I met him again in the office with his mother.  He talked to me about planets and stars.  The day he started coming to me for gifted, I introduced him to Wonderopolis.  I showed him how he could write about his learning on the blog.  We went to the library and checked out 4 Seymour Simon books.  His face lit up.  A teacher reported to me that for the first time he looked at her and smiled in the hallway.

 

Boy by Kathleen Hartman

Boy by Kathleen Hartman

I kept up with C.’s daily behavior report.  I talked with his other teachers.  Things were running smoothly.  He even had a few days of rewards.

Then one day I got a phone call from the assistant principal telling me that he was having a melt down in the hallway.  I made my way to his hall.  When I found him, he was lying on the floor with his booksack over his face.  He was completely alone.  I pulled the bag away from his face, and he woke up.  Yes, he was sleeping.

“How did you fall asleep?”

“I guess I was bored.”

“Why were you bored?  Why are you out in the hall all by yourself?”

“I had to sit for recess. I forgot my math homework.”

I walked him to the cafeteria to meet his class for lunch.  We talked to his teacher.  Yes, he had to sit out of recess, but his response was disrespectful.

I am afraid this was not the last time that he was “disrespectful” to this teacher.

I know that I have the privilege of teaching students in small groups.  I know that I am allowed to use interest areas to inspire students.  However, I am saddened that the regular class cannot differentiate for children like C.  He needed to be treated differently.  He needed cool down time.  He needed respect.  He needed…

Now this light has moved on.  His mother thought it best to move him to another school.  I miss him.  I miss the scent of him, too.  He said it was an essential oil called, “Peaceful Child.”  I miss his eagerness.  He greeted each new day as an adventure.  “What are we going to do today?”

“Thank you for being an advocate for my child.” His mothers last words to me.  He gave me a bear hug.  Tears welled up in my eyes.

In the Baptismal covenant of the Episcopal church, we say “I promise to respect the dignity of every human being.”

I think the word dignity should be divinity.  We need to recognize the God in each child.  We need to respect the divinity in every human being.  Think of what a change that would be.  If every person you meet is God, how would you behave differently?

 

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Join the Spiritual Thursday round up at Reading, Teaching, Learning.

Join the Spiritual Thursday round up at Reading, Teaching, Learning.

harvest list

I love that the word harvest is on my list for preparations for Thanksgiving. I have a brown thumb. I am no good at growing stuff. I tend to forget to water, prune, anything that a plant requires for survival. So I am filled with pleasure when I can harvest in my own backyard. God blessed citrus trees with resilience. They don’t need me. And yet they give back to me.

This is how God’s love is. Abundant. All we have to do is harvest it.

satsuma tree

I am wishing for you this holiday season an abundant harvest.

lemon tree

Like that tiny mustard seed. When planted it takes root and turns into a large tree with many branches.

Open up your arms to the world.
Glow like the lemon in the sunlight.
Be joy.
Be love.
Be the harvest.

A bowl of life from my own backyard!

A bowl of life from my own backyard!

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Join the Spiritual Thursday round up at Reading, Teaching, Learning.

Join the Spiritual Thursday round up at Reading, Teaching, Learning.

A year ago, one of my young friends was in a terrible car accident.  This week we celebrated her life. Her 24th birthday, and she is walking and talking and trying to build her future. But recovery is long. Her balance is not totally back, so she walks with a cane. Many days she is depressed because she isn’t sure what the future will hold. What is there to do now?

When I don’t know what to do, I think about the ministry of presence. Sometimes that’s all we have. Prayer is presence, the willingness to sacrifice–to give of ourselves to service. Humble our own egos and respond to God’s call to love. That’s it. Love. Sounds easy.

The doorway to true joy is not the need to be loved, but the need to love.

Open the door, welcome the one who has made us all, and free your soul to love without judgement, without ego, without expectation.

A picture of Glenae holding the prayer shawl I made for her when she was in the hospital.

A picture of Glenae holding the prayer shawl I made for her when she was in the hospital.

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Join the Spiritual Thursday round up at Reading, Teaching, Learning.

Join the Spiritual Thursday round up at Reading, Teaching, Learning.

Holly invites us to reflect on our spiritual journey every Thursday. This week I’ve been thinking about healing.

Music is such a healing medicine. One of my favorite bands in our area is Stop the Clock Cowboy Jazz. The group includes 10, sometimes more, musicians. Ever since the Lafayette shooting, Kelly sings “Smile.” No matter what, this song stirs something in me. I could replace the word smile with hope. Hope though your heart is aching. God’s love offers hope, no matter what.

Smile though your heart is aching
Smile even though it’s breaking.
When there are clouds in the sky
you’ll get by.

If you smile through your fear and sorrow
Smile and maybe tomorrow
You’ll see the sun come shining through
For you.

Light up your face with gladness,
Hide every trace of sadness.
Although a tear may be ever so near

That’s the time you must keep on trying
Smile, what’s the use of crying.
You’ll find that life is still worthwhile-
If you just smile.

Read more: Charlie Chaplin – Smile Lyrics | MetroLyrics

I saw this video posted on Facebook. The song was written by Jo-El Sonnier, a Cajun musician, and performed by a number of local musicians. The Healin’ Song was originally written in 2001 after 9/11, but was not recorded until after the shooting at the Grand Theater in Lafayette. Whenever musicians get together and share their love of music and culture and place, healing can happen. The Acadiana community has bonded and become a stronghold for us.

Turning to music in times of grief is nothing new. The Psalms are just that, songs written for healing.

Sacred words,
words in verse,
words in song
carry a rhythm into your heart,
a beat that can bring life back
to the darkest places
and let light shine through
to warm,
to soothe,
to heal
and make new.

Joanne Shih lettering

Joanne Shih lettering

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Join the Spiritual Thursday round up at Reading, Teaching, Learning.

Join the Spiritual Thursday round up at Reading, Teaching, Learning.

Today is Spiritual Journey Thursday. Each week Holly Mueller invites us to reflect on our journey. This week the theme is doubt. I have no doubt of the existence of God because 30 years ago I was witness to it.

On July 3, 1985 I dropped off my four month old baby girl at day care. It was summer, and I wasn’t teaching, but I needed to run some errands, and she needed to get accustomed to the day care. However at noon while I ate lunch with my husband, I had an uneasy feeling. I needed to go check on my baby.

I dropped by and took Maggie in my arms to nurse her. Something wasn’t right. Her breathing was quick, almost like a dog’s panting. After she nursed, she spit up. Not unusual, but the liquid was tinted with reddish brown. That sent me into panic mode. I asked the day care worker to call the doctor. They told her to have me come in immediately.

Usually at the pediatrician’s office, you sit in the waiting room for hours waiting to see the doctor. Not this time. They whisked me to the back. The doctor came in quickly and listened to Maggie’s heart. He had a grave expression on his face. Her heart rate was too fast. She needed to go to the hospital.

This was pre-cell phone era, so I used the doctor’s office phone to call my husband. His secretary sent me to hold, and I was cut off. I called back and cried into the phone. “This is an emergency!”

The hospital was near the doctor’s office. Again, there was no waiting. No long form filling. The nurses grabbed my baby and within minutes had an IV in her tiny little head pumping in medicine. The diagnosis was tachycardia, an abnormal fast heart rate.

Hours passed, and Maggie’s heart rate did not slow down. It was racing at 200+ beats per minute. Our priest came by and prayed with us. He, too, was grave and sad. Was I going to lose my first child?

Around midnight, the doctors decided to send us to Ochsner in New Orleans by helicopter. I would fly with Maggie and Jeff would drive with friends.

I was laid on the stretcher first. Then they handed me the baby. We lay together chest to chest. Heartbeat to heartbeat.

heart-66892_640

Helicopters are loud. There was no talking to anyone. As we lifted off, we ascended straight up into the sky. No build up to take off as in an airplane. One minute on the ground, the next in the air.

While we flew, I prayed fiercely. I don’t remember the words, but they were like those of Jesus on the cross. “Take this cup away from me.” I didn’t pray for healing. I prayed for presence.

In the sky high above, I felt the physical presence of God, a warmth of hands wrapped around my shoulders. I felt calm, peaceful. I knew everything would be okay. Maggie’s heart slowed to the rhythm of my own.

The equipment at Ochsner was more sophisticated, so the doctors could tell that her fast heart rate was a sinus rhythm. It was not tachycardia. There was an infection somewhere in her system that caused the fast rate.

After many pricks and prods, Maggie was diagnosed with pneumonia. Remember the blood in her spittle? All was well, and we returned home by July 5th with a hoarse and tired baby girl.

When faced with tragedy, I am completely confident in God’s presence. Whether or not God physically healed Maggie doesn’t matter. I know that a strong and holy spirit was with me. We were both healed.

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Redemption

Redemption

Join the Spiritual Thursday round up at Reading, Teaching, Learning.

Join the Spiritual Thursday round up at Reading, Teaching, Learning.

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Join the Spiritual Thursday round up at Reading, Teaching, Learning.

Join the Spiritual Thursday round up at Reading, Teaching, Learning.

Mercy, we all need it. Every week during our Sunday service I kneel and say the confession of sin.

Most merciful God,
we confess that we have sinned against you
in thought, word, and deed,
by what we have done,
and by what we have left undone.
We have not loved you with our whole heart;
we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves.
We are truly sorry and we humbly repent.
For the sake of your Son Jesus Christ,
have mercy on us and forgive us;
that we may delight in your will,
and walk in your ways,
to the glory of your Name. Amen.

Some days, however, this prayer is incomplete. Mercy is more than forgiveness. Mercy is relationship with God. We need mercy even when we have not left things undone. We need mercy even when we’ve loved our neighbor. We need mercy because we love God with all our heart, our mind, our strength. We need mercy.

Most merciful God,
help me to speak the words of kindness.
Guide my thinking toward goodness.

Help me see the light that shines in everyone’s heart;
I will see You there.

Fill my thoughts with truth; Give me grace to know when
to reach out
and when to step back.

Show me your light; Help me stand in its glow,
not in its shadow.

I need your mercy,
love, and patience
every day.

I am yours and You are mine.
We are in this together.
Have mercy on me.

–Margaret Simon

Rainbow in clouds

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Join the Spiritual Thursday round up at Reading, Teaching, Learning.

Join the Spiritual Thursday round up at Reading, Teaching, Learning.

Each day is a little life; every waking and rising a little birth; every fresh morning a little youth; every going to rest and sleep a little death.

– ARTHUR SCHOPENHAUER

When Holly tweeted out the theme for this week, patience, I was finishing my second art lesson. I have been trying to be an artist my whole life. My father is an artist, and I want to grow up to be like him. Art takes patience. And I am not sure I have what it takes.

During this second lesson, our instructor asked us to draw an image from a photograph. He wanted us to use shading to show form. He said the word form over and over again. I think he became frustrated with me, but you would never know it. He has a calm demeanor. Patience is so important to any kind of teaching.

I wasn’t quite sure how to start or how to proceed. I was stuck with what I knew before of contour drawing. I was not familiar with his method. So he took my tablet and drew, hatching and shading. The drawing that looked like a cartoon to me began to take shape and form. I was watching a miracle. I still have no idea how to make that happen when the pencil is in my own hand.

Patience.
I have no patience with myself.
I want to be good now, but I avoid the practice that it takes.

In our limited human minds, we see bits and pieces of the whole. We see small miracles every day. God can see the whole. God knows the big picture. God is our artist.

In my impatience, I want to know now. I want to be good and right and perfect. Ah, me. That is not possible. The only real perfection is with God. In the meantime, I will continue to strive for the best, trying to remember that the Great Artist isn’t finished with me yet.

“Don’t look at your feet to see if you are doing it right. Just dance.”
― Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life

Not my bird

Not my bird

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My Church

Join the Spiritual Thursday round up at Reading, Teaching, Learning.

Join the Spiritual Thursday round up at Reading, Teaching, Learning.

Church of the Epiphany, New Iberia, Louisiana

Church of the Epiphany, New Iberia, Louisiana

Have you ever driven someplace on auto-pilot, getting there and not remembering how you got there? On Sunday morning I turn on auto-pilot. The only decision I have to make is what to wear, because attending church is automatic for me. I just do it.

I grew up going to church every Sunday. When I went to college, I chose LSU because of the Episcopal student center. I joined the music group. We sang folk songs to guitar and piano. For the Eucharist on Sunday night, we would gather around the altar in a circle and pass the bread and wine to each other. This service was intimate and sincere.

I also love a high church service complete with smells and bells, a full four-part choir with men and women processing in robes, banners waving.

The church I attend weekly is a historical Episcopal church dating back to 1857. The sanctuary was used as a hospital in the Civil War. We still have two of the pews that were used as horse troughs. You can see the holes that were bored for drainage. I sing in the choir loft that was once a loft for slaves. If the walls and windows and pews could speak…

Why church? Not because I’ve always gone. Not because of the building or the traditions.

Church is home. Church is community.
Church is a place where God is always present.
I go to church because I would feel incomplete without it.

The words inspire me.
The people love me.
The Eucharist nourishes me.

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Freedom

Join the Spiritual Thursday round up at Reading, Teaching, Learning.

Join the Spiritual Thursday round up at Reading, Teaching, Learning.

peace freedom quote

I attended a poetry workshop in which the leader asked us to write using concrete images about an abstract idea. Ah, sometimes that is quite a challenge. Today, Holly asks us to reflect on Freedom for our Spiritual Thursday posts. Freedom is an abstract term that comes with all kinds of connotations.

What is the image of freedom?
The soaring eagle,
A couple in a convertible with the top down, wind in their hair,
praying hands,
a breaking wave on the shore of the sea,
a child on a swing, leaning back, legs high in the air,
or is freedom more complicated than that?

We look to our flag to symbolize our country’s freedom.
We look to words “All men are created equal.”
We look to God.
But our questions remain unanswered,
hanging there in the air of inequality,
oppression, discontent.
What is freedom, really?
What is the ultimate price?
When will we see the image of true peace?

Freedom is the laughter of a child,
the scent of jasmine on a summer walk,
a hug between friends.
Freedom is elusive and right in the palm of our hands.
We can embrace the word, hold fast to our convictions,
and fly the flag. But until the whole of humanity
lives in peace, freedom will not be free.

photo 2

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