ART

Art....I don't get it. As I was waiting for my niece and her friend to show up at the Celebration Bridge Thanksgiving morning for us to do our version of the Turkey Trot. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, a 5K run on Thanksgiving morning. She was late...shocking for her!
We were to meet at the San Angelo Museum of Fine Arts. Since I was early, I started looking around. That is when I saw this bright squiggly blue thing. It is cool looking but I think my grandson, Ryder, has duplicated it with bendy straws many times as we have been out to eat. It is blue and shiny but art? I am not so sure. There is no telling what it costs but I bet it wasn't cheap. And so I started thinking....hey, maybe I could be an artist? Okay, maybe not...but I just don't see this as art. Not really even as a sculpture. Just a cool blue bendy thing. As I waited (some more) for my niece to arrive I saw these interesting pieces of "art"
Now I KNOW that Grace Elizabeth (she's 7) has made these EXACT same trees out of play-doh before. You know, their (Ryder and Grace) daddy is an artist. Even teaches art. Maybe he isn't an artist after all. Maybe he, along with whoever did these pieces of art, were just mimicking what they have seen their children do?
Art? I don't get it.

It's Not Cancer

I feel sorry for myself sometimes. I think we all do. Life gets hard. There are demands, issues and stress. But it is life. It is living. It is not cancer. I have a good friend whose body has been invaded by cancer. Yet, for him, it's not about the cancer. It is about life. It is about being thankful for all the things that come with life. Because he wants to live. Even with all the demands, issues and stress, he wants to live. And so do we all. Sometimes I think that we don't realize that even in the midst of life at its worst it is better than no life at all. I am not talking about spirituality here because I know, as does my friend, to "be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord", for those that believe. But I am talking about us in the flesh. We all want to live but we ALSO want life to be good. Our perspective is all wrong. Maybe we should realize that drawing breath under ANY circumstances is good. That if we are healthy then no matter the financial trouble, drama with our kids, disappointment in our friends, dissatisfaction with our jobs, or any of the other things that cause us to be unahppy.....it is not cancer. When I say that, it makes me ashamed. All of the times I have whined and complained when I really have nothing to be unhappy about. I have a family that loves me, good friends, a roof over my head, clothes to wear, food to eat, a vehicle to drive, and a job. I am, for the most part, healthy as is my family. And when things go wrong, I need to remind myself.....it's not cancer. And be grateful.
Please pray for my friend and his family; Brandon, Jenny, Brady, Kylee, and Landon Clark.

Thankfulness

Every year at this time, I focus, as does everyone else, on the things for which I am thankful. The things that are important to me. The things that affect my very being. Like my family, my faith, my health, my job, good friends, a place to live, and of course eternal security. But what about those things that make me happy that aren't your every day garden variety "thanks for this" stuff? Well here are the EXTRAS that make me thankful that probably don't get a lot of press from me or anyone else for that matter. So here are my TOP TEN THINGS THAT I AM THANKFUL FOR THAT NEVER GET TALKED ABOUT
10. desserts ( not just chocolate, though that is huge, but any other sweet delicacy that when you place it in your mouth, your tongue goes "wow, thanks a LOT!"
9. hot showers (the kind that, when you are chilled to the bone, the minute the water hits you, you squirm around under the shower head trying to get that warmth all over your body)
8. couch blankets (the soft cuddly ones that you wrap up in even when it is 90 degrees outside. Probably goes back to that "swaddling" thing of our infancy)
7. clean sheets (best sleep ever)
6. laughter (where your stomach hurts)
5. tears (the happy kind, usually from great laughter)
4 solitude (not forced but voluntary)
3. a great book (read after that hot shower under that great blanket!)
2. supper (doesn't matter the dish, just everyone around the table, talking at once enjoying each other and it isn't even a holiday!)
1. pets (any kind...always glad to see you, listens if needed, doesn't judge, and will curl up beside you and offer unconditional love at any time of any day)

My Life Has A Soundtrack

I love music. I always have. When I was growing up, television didn't stay on the air 24 hours or even most of the day. But the radio did. Everyone had a stereo of some kind. We had tons of records, both albums and 45's. My brothers always had records. I can still feel the static of the cellophane that covered the cardboard sleeves that housed the music of my life. The slick vinyl music with the tiny lines that separated one song from another. Music filled our home. Not just "kids" music but the music of my mom's generation and all the soundtracks from the musicals of the time. And when we weren't playing albums, we were listening to the radio. There was not a plethora of stations to choose from either. There was just a lot of different music played on one channel. And we would sit and anxiously wait for "our song" to come on. We entered the contests, called in to the request line and made dedications to our friends and boy/girl friends. We danced on the porch, in the house, and even on the furniture (when mom wasn't home). Dance contests were a staple of our week. We knew every word of every song and sang them at the top of our lungs. We would create our own music videos (though we had no idea what those were) by sometimes acting out the lyrics. It makes me smile to remember. I listen to the oldies to revisit the songs of my youth. Every song reminds me of a person, an incident, or even a specific day or time of day. To this day my family still loves music. My daughter was rocked to sleep by some of the greatest music every written; "brown-eyed girl", "Country Road Take Me Home", the entire soundtrack from "My Fair Lady", "Jesus Loves Me", "Yankee Doodle/She's a Grand Old Flag" medley, and some Beatles just to name a few. My tastes run far and wide. She too is a musical child. And her tastes are far reaching as well. Our music minister has a gift for selecting music that speaks to the hearts of God's people. Whether we are at choir practice or singing to our "family" at church, I feel the closest to God at those times. I have heard many a great sermon in the guise of song. I have been convicted and moved to tears and a desire to "do and be better" through music. I remember the song that was playing when I walked forward and told my church family that I had accepted Christ as my Saviour and was wanting to be baptized. I remember it was that same song when my daughter-in -law made that same walk on Christmas Day. I am so thankful that God gave us music. It moves, inspires, and cheers me. When the day seems long, and the burdens heavy, I "crank it up" in my car or in my home and let the music take me away. I am grateful for the soundtrack of my life.

Chocolate Promises

I am a cusser. I am not proud of that, I am just stating a fact. I don't drink, smoke, do drugs, fool around, or any other "vice". Instead I cuss. I use to not cuss, BUT I did drink, smoke and particpate in other "youthly vices". I am not condoning or making excuses but that is where I think the cussing comes from. I quit doing a few bad things and started doing just one. Well my Sunday School a few weeks back graciously agreed to pray for me about this. Of course, this took place after I cussed in class. In fact, many of them looked a little taken back and then of course I had to confess. Hello, my name is Joyce, I am a cusser. Hello Joyce!! Well, I believe that their prayers are working. I eat lunch with a great crew that are affectionately known as the "lunch bunch". We eat, laugh, and play cards every day. (that card playing is a whole other blog!) The girls in the group LOVE Dove brand chocolate. It is the expensive kind that comes in very small bags, individually wrapped, and in different varieties. Everyday we all eat 2-3 as we eat and play cards. Just a note, when it was my turn to buy the chocolate I slipped in a "hershey's mix" that was not well received at all. But I digress. Every one of these pieces of chocolate have a "promise" inside written on the foil wrapper. They are silly things like "take a break, have another piece". Most of the "promises" are repeated in every piece of candy. Today, I ate a piece and read the "promise" inside. Normally I just eat the candy. It said 'kick a bad habit for today". Are you kidding me? I read it to the lunch bunch who responded in unison "CUSSING!!" About 4 minutes later when I ate my next piece I read the wrapper and it said "think of every day as a Sunday" Oh my gosh. I spend most of my day at church on Sunday's and I don't cuss there with the exception of that little dammit in Sunday School that time. I have always searched for the still small voice of God. Today He not only spoke to me LOUD and CLEAR..but He spoke to me through CHOCOLATE!! HOW AMAZING. And.....I haven't cussed since!!!! But it wouldn't hurt to keep praying :)

Storming Mount Suribachi

If you don't know, Mount Suribachi is where the marines planted the American Flag at Iwo Jima. They have a very famous statue of it and it was in all the history books!! I would have never been successful in the military. All that conformity. Not to mention the bad fashion choices. Yet I continue to storm the mountain, with no reinforcements and armed with nothing more than my sense of righteous indignation. At least in the military they have a PLAN before battle. A strategy as it were. Not me, I just storm the mountain with no thought to the consequences, no plan, just my overwhelming desire to see my flag of righteous indignation planted there. I have always been a champion of the underdog (even when he didn't need or want my help). So when I see wrongs (or perhaps better said, what I PERCEIVE as wrongs) I pull out my flag and start storming the mountain. Old generals react from their gut instincts and years of battle experience, but they still have to get approval before they undertake the mission. I never think to get approval, I just roll with my gut. As I get older, the mountain gets harder to climb and the flag I carry seems heavier. I doubt that is the case. Perhaps I am just realizing that I need a plan. That not everything has to be a battle. That if I let the Lord be my general I won't have to fight near as hard or as often. That my sense of "righteous indignation" is mired in what I want and what I think is right instead of what God deems right. Petty little battles is about all it amounts to. And unnecessary chaos left behind. I have to stop marching to the beat of what I want, and what I think, and what I need and perhaps focus more on what God wants and what He thinks and what He needs me to do. I wouldn't have been good in the military. But the Shelton regiment isn't working so well either. Perhaps I should retire my flag and join a new outfit. So today is my enlistment day!! Here I am Lord, reporting for duty. And thanks for not making me wear an unflattering uniform!

Monday Morning Musings

The weekend was great but went so fast. Are you kidding me. It seems like I just left this place. I am teaching the Progressive Era and not having any progress. Pun intended. I just cannot seem to motivate the kids to be excited about this era in history. In fact, I had a student put his head down and I thought to myself, man I wish I could do that. Teaching is an honorable institution but who wants to be in an institution? I think more and more that in May of 2012 I can leave this profession and not have to but up with the beaurecratic bullshingles that permeate every aspect of education. But then I think, I know that God gave me this talent (its the only one I have by the way) and I know that He wants me to use it. I know that besides teaching students the subject matter, that I am reaching some of them (not nearly enough) on a spiritual level. What will happen if I leave? Will there be another place for me to serve or will I just go home and do nothing. While the latter sounds like heaven on earth to me, I wonder what God would have me do? I am afraid to ask as His answer might be "stay". My job gets harder every year. Kids are changing and not for the better. This old nasty now and now is getting nastier. Nothing I do seems relevant any longer. Several of my "former" students were involved in a murder a few weeks back. A young woman who graduated with my daughter last year past away last week. She was unmarried and 7 months pregnant. Just died. My kids have been in jail, see a probation officer and are court ordered to come to school. How good does retirement sound now? Exactly. I know God has a plan I just wonder if He has met my students?

Is there anything you miss about the Catholic Church?

This question prompted by my discussion with my mom today that I did not want her to send money to people to pray for her because she was losing her hair. Stop laughing, I am serious. A novena (as well as I can remember is like a prayer cluster) and you don't have to pay for it but usually when you request it there is a "donation" envelope involved. I had no idea how angry I was at the Church and the lies that I had been told growing up. Correction, not lies, really no information at all. Being born in the Bronx, aka "little Italy", my family is the epitome of Catholicism. My brothers were altar boys, we all went to parochial school ( fancy name for church or private) and mass was a constant in our lives. Along of course with confession which now they call something more "user friendly". I saw the term on my mom's catholic newsletter today and can't remember what it is but at the time I thougth what the....? Anyway, I was a child in confession A LOT because I never felt like I measured up and just "hoping" that I got to heaven seemed more than a little unreliable. So, I never read the Bible, never prayed to anyone other than a priest, and was very frightenend of what I believed to be an angry, wrathful, omnipotent God. I never prayed unless someone "led" me and then I just bowed my head and closed my eyes while we prayed for world peace or the upcoming church festival instead of intimate, personal needs and fears and desires that only God can handle. So today when my mom wanted prayer for her hair....all of that just kind of came spewing out of my mouth. Not the Christian thing for me to do and something that I am not proud of as my mom is a deeply spiritual woman who clings to her faith. Now I had the privilege of leading my mom to the Lord months back but Catholicism is something that never goes away. Those teachings are deeply ingrained in your and it is hard to turn lose. I still suffer from "spiritual guilt" which was something I was taught in Catholic school. Some people find comfort in the ritual of it. Not me. So after another outburst in which I declared that there was no such thing as purgatory (after all, I was on a roll)and she needed no one but Jesus to get to God and that the Church had lied to me my whole life she said, " Is there anything you miss about the Catholic church?" And I adamantly said NOT ONE THING!! She looked shaken at that and more than a little sad. How can she still cling to a religion that doesn't even know that she exists. She sat faithfully in the same pew for 30+ years and gave financially and NO ONE comes to see her. No one knows who she is or that she is there. How can that be? Am I angry because of what they did to me or to what they are doing to her? She is hurt and it makes me angry. We are to love one another and more so the widows and the children. She is 87 and faithfully keeps up with church news, with the bulletin and still receives those novenas that offer to pray for her "for free" with a donation envelope included. Yet, they do not know who she is. They don't come and offer her the sacraments that they believe are vital to one going to heaven. So, it is like she is forgotten by her faith. Is there anything I miss about the Catholic church? I miss that I missed out. That I never knew that I could get to heaven without a priest. I miss that I had to wait 36 years to come to the saving knowledge of Jesus Christ. I miss.....I miss my mom. She is still here but the years have not been kind to her physically. She is so sharp mentally but even that is starting to fail. I love her and feel bad that I may have inadvertenly hurt her today. But I know this I do not miss being a Catholic and all that goes with it. And as for her hair, I am going to buy her vitamins.

Technologically Handicapped

My friend Wendi informed me this week that she was blogging. I viewed hers and thought this is the thing for me. Well that was two days ago and after about 10 hours of computer time (not consecutive, I do have a life) I am up and running. So who says you can't teach an old dog new tricks? I am excited about "blogging" as I have love to write my whole life. Always dreamed I would write a book. Perhaps if I string enough blogs together...? Would that classify as a short story? Had many things to post but the set up wore me out!!!