Wednesday, March 31, 2010

midlife

(or I hope a little less than midlife ‘cause I plan on living to 100 so John and I can celebrate our 80th wedding anniversary.) Psychologically, this season of life would be termed the mid. My oldest son just turned 21, my middle is 17, I am 47, and we are all trying to figure out what to do next.

In a world of options, knowing one’s bents and knowing what to do with them is a whole ‘nother ball game. Therefore, middle son Ethan and I have enrolled in a Life and Career Planning class at the local j.c. Emerging from our homeschool cocoon and walking onto campus has been educational in itself on what life choices NOT to make. Once in the class, though, we settle into our seats, raise our worldview antennae and revel in the opportunity to learn something new. The professor is young, energetic and loves what he does. Two hours zip by. On the way home, we process over Nuyo.

So what have we come up with so far? After our first personality assessment, Ethan found he is suited to be a Nuclear Power Plant Supervisor and I… a Singing Messenger. Even Nuyo couldn’t help us sort those out! Six class meetings and a Meyers-Briggs test remain; all hope is not lost.

Meanwhile, we are exposed to thought-provoking questions that force us to examine how we are wired. Despite the influence of upbringing, at our core remain God-implanted personality traits, gifts and talents. This class has positioned us to deliberately dig deep to unearth them. Ethan readily identifies his strengths – his seeds are fresh and young. I excavate kernals which were pushed deep inside because they weren’t practical. Dormant, neglected, caked with fear, they are still there. Praise God!

Singing messages is probably not my calling. And I don’t think I’ll have a decided career by the end of class. But I’m getting the feeling that in the middle of midlife, God has something good waiting for this 47.

For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother's womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
Psalm 139: 13-14

Monday, March 22, 2010

big lessons in little people

This year, I’ve spent Sunday evenings on the yellow line with a Sparkie. In a hit-and-run fashion twenty-five minutes a week, we have formed a relationship. Both of us are strong willed and have our opinions. To say my patience hasn’t been tried would be a lie, and I think she would say the same of hers. This year, I may have been her leader, but this year, she has been my teacher. She’s taught me it’s okay to see someone you love across the crowded church patio and wave exuberantly while calling out their name. She’s taught me that girlfriends are meant to be hugged if you’re standing next to them. She’s taught me that a yes means yes, and a no means no…and it’s okay to say so. She’s taught me that sometimes things aren’t as they seem, and patient understanding can open the door to trust and growth. She’s taught me that with support and baby steps, we can accomplish big things. I pray my little friend will always run to win the prize. As she learns to bend her will to the Father’s, I pray it will remain strong in His hands. And I thank God for big lessons in little people.

Sunday, June 24, 2007

this day in history













Pulled out my art journal today and found 1) that I haven't drawn in it since January!@#$% and 2) this drawing I did a year ago today. I felt like the mannequin on that day...and a bit like that today.

I took an extended retreat from church this month. Although I am able to gather snippets of quiet while everyone is home, there is nothing like being home alone. So, for the month of June, I decided to stay home from service to be quiet with God. Today, my last day, God fit together a few pieces of an emerging puzzle. It's staggering to me to know that a heart's cry prayer with a friend, a video made 4 years ago and a book written over 50 years ago would appear in my life over the course of a week and merge together in one day to form a message from God.

I feel today, like I did a year ago, convicted, humbled, set free and in awe that He knows my name, hears every prayer I pray, He's the one who brought me to this place; the voice that sings to me, the hand that clings to me, I'm His child and He will always know my name. ptL.

Wednesday, June 20, 2007

locks and lots of love













Making a resolution to donate her hair to "Locks of Love," M marched bravely forward to undergo an outward transformation of the work God is doing inside. When she found out about the program, she said, "I can do that!" and set a goal to grow her hair til summer then have it cut. It was an exciting moment and another step in her heart's desire to help children. She plans to keep it short for the heat and in the fall, start growing it out for the next donation.

Thursday, June 14, 2007

it is finished










June 1st will go down in the annals of the history of our homeschool as the day we celebrated our first graduate!

What an incredible time both the day of the ceremony and the weeks leading up to it. I purposefully savored every moment, every memory. I didn't want the day to come and go in a blur of preparations and miss, as a family, the opportunity to remember the road that brought us to this place.

The past year has been a difficult one for S and for our family but, as promised, from the refining fire God continues to bring beauty from ashes. Had
Seth graduated a year earlier, we would have celebrated his intelect and abilities; instead, we celebrated who he is (see speeches below). And, we celebrated as a family who arrived at this milestone together stronger in our faith and stronger in our family identity and bond. Joined by loved ones who supported us along the way, the ceremony was representative of the journey and God's faithfulness along the way.











E was our "keynote" speaker:

My Baba has been visiting with us. Over dinner this week, we discovered she was the only one of nine siblings to graduate high school. Born in Mexico to Russian immigrant parents, life was about maintaining the farm.

When she finished sixth grade, her father said, “That’s it; time to stay home.”

Knowing her father was the boss of the family and that Baba had a strong will, we asked, “And what did you say?”

“No,” she said.

“And what did he say?” we eagerly inquired.

“Nothing.”

She went on to tell us how she came home from school, finished her farm chores before studying into the midnight hour. She then rose at 5 a.m. to complete the morning chores before heading to school.

In addition to a firm faith in God, my Baba has given our family a legacy which values education. She taught this by example of teaching wherever God placed her – at home, Sunday School, girls club and in public school. Her oldest daughter has followed in her footsteps by becoming a public school teacher and her youngest daughter, my mom, became a Homeschool teacher.

Before we were born, my parents moved into a new house in Whittier, CA. The local newspaper landed on the porch. Inside was a two page spread on a local family who adopted an unconventional method of education – teaching their children at home. Dissatisfied with the options available to them, they kept their children at home and became one of the pioneering families in the home education movement. After reading the article, my parents knew if they ever had children, they would home school them. Two years later, Seth was born and the rest is history.

By choosing this option, my brother, sister and myself have had the opportunity to be educated at our own pace. Take reading, for example. My brother learned to read at age 4 sitting next to my mom, 15 minutes a day until he could sound out words by himself. My mom tried to teach me to read the same way. I, however, liked to sit with my back against the seat of the sofa and my feet up in the air resting against the back of the sofa. After intermittent starts and stops, she realized I wasn’t ready and let it go. Then, at age 7, she saw me looking at a book.

“Whatcha doin’ E?”

Reading,” I nonchalantly replied.

“Really? What are you reading?”

I told her. She continued to inquire and, realizing I knew more than the pictures of the book could tell, she had me read the book to her. To her astonishment, I really was reading. The question still remains a mystery, “Who taught E how to read?” Today, my siblings and myself all read well above grade level even though we each learned to do so very differently. Being homeschooled has allowed us to bite, chew and swallow our learning at a pace we could easily digest.

As mentioned earlier, I was not one to sit in a chair. Most of my early school work was done upside down, standing by my chair, whirling, twirling, singing, hopping, skipping, running and/or jumping, in the den, in the family room, in my bed, on the living room floor or at the kitchen table. It was easier for me to think if I was moving. S was different. Most of the time he knew more about the subject before Mom got around to teaching him. I enjoyed tagging along his learning adventures and learned a lot from talking to him (of which I still do a lot of) and listening to him (which I try to do when I’m not talking to him). Being homeschooled has allowed us to approach education the way God wired us. It’s made a challenging road for my parents, but one that we have benefited from.

Although there are many other reasons my parents have homeschooled us, the one that made them choose this for our family was their conviction that this was what God had called them to do. The hub of our school is Jesus: He’s the foundation for every subject taught and the author of our lesson plans. He’s the glue that holds us together as a school and family.

Homeschooling is not perfect. Each day holds its own adventures and opportunities of learning to get along in the relationship laboratory we live in 24/7. But God has blessed my parents for following in the footsteps of the legacy handed down through my Baba. The diploma my brother will receive today is the testimony of the faithfulness of God who planted the desire to learn in my Baba, her daughter and her grandchildren.

Mama's Speech:

S, I am so proud of you. You are a bright young man and have approached your schooling with serious perseverance and unrelenting stamina. You’ve accomplished much in your schooling years. And as proud as I am of your brain, I am more moved by your heart. Inside dwells the living God who formed you in my womb. This past year I have seen a person who is brave and strong as he learned to acknowledge and embrace weakness; I have seen a person who is gentle and kind and took the risk of sharing his heart with others; and I have seen a person whose life God values and treasures and has a plan and a purpose for. Your graduation today is proof that what may seem impossible, is possible with God’s strength. In kindergarten, a verse got you through every new experience as you branched out from hiding behind me and became an independent little guy: “I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength.” We’d repeat that over and over before you went into Sunday School or VBS or school group park days. It still holds true today, Love. You can do all things through Christ who gives you strength.

You know your Mama loves you and I’ll be here for you….unless of course my request for a dorm room next to yours goes through and in that case, I’ll be right next door!

Congratulations Graduate!


Next stop....Westmont!

Wednesday, June 13, 2007

young thespian






















E performed in his second theatrical endeavor at the end of May. The play was "Secrets of the Garden Club" and his character, Mr. Travis, a newly graduated overzealous detective eager to test his education on his first murder case.

Drama is definately E's thing. It's a ton of work but so worth it. Normally a timid person, he blossoms on stage as he rises to the challenge of forgetting himself and truly becoming the character he is portraying. We are very proud of you, E!!!!

Monday, April 16, 2007

classic seth













I was blessed with a day off today which included a trip to a mega Borders. Having spent the day alone, I naturally had an abundance of words left to use and S was the lucky recipient of a shelf- by-shelf description of the store. At the end of the monolog (during which he did his best to show an inordinate amount of interest, being a library shelver and all), I noticed he had vased the first iris blooms for his desk. I commented on how they look like beautiful fluffy ladies. He replied with a hint of respectful exasperation, "Yeah, except they don't talk."
Do men have listening quotas? If so, I believe I exceeded Seth's today.