Islands

One woman broke out a Haitian flag during an island themed Zumba song today. This prompted other people to rummage in their bags and purses for more Haitian and Jamaican flags to wave while we danced.

Had I known it was spontaneous heritage pride day, I would've stuffed an Irish flag in my bag to add some more colors to the air and represent the island of my ancestry.

Speaking of which, I recently heard a great Irish joke from a mother of six.

"What's Irish and stays out all night?"

...

Patio furniture!

Back to islands. I was an island in that class this morning as the sole descendent of ancestors who danced with hands at their sides to deter spying priests who might've seen them partying. (One explanation as to why Irish dancers dance with their arms pinned to their sides).

My bodacious sisters from islands a bit more south were indoctrinated with a lot more freer movement in their culture.

Nevertheless, we all got down in more rigid or loose ways bridging cultural divides so that no woman was an island.

And I'm grateful. Because I like southern island moves. And I don't like being an island in the traditional way that one thinks of islands --as isolated.

As I thought about islands, I imagined that perhaps all hearts are islands and Christ's love is the ocean which unites them together. The waves of His mercy gently lap the shores of the hearts of the world, softening their hard edges. His salty waters filled with fish of all kinds bring treasures from other islands and lay them on our sand.

Then we know that while we may never observe all the intricacies of the other islands, we know they exist. We delight in the fruits that we can see, and in the knowledge that we are not alone.

Floating Kale Christmas

“The foolish man seeks happiness in the distance, the wise grows it under his feet.” – James Oppenheim, American novelist and poet.

My roommate told me this quote earlier today when I thought aloud of all manner of future plans. Later we had kale smoothies—a gift in the present.

“It tastes like Christmas,” she remarked after we clinked glasses and sipped the greenish, pinkish concoction.

Our faces both puckered and we laughed.

What is that stuff? A dash of cinnamon, the juice of one lime and half a lemon, a handful of berries, two cups of kale, a kiwi, the eye of a newt, the skin of a python…

Maybe we’ll try a different variation next time…

Yes. I made a kale smoothie for the first time ever. And it did taste like Christmas.

I also taught first grade for the first time this year.

(It’s true. I am a daughter of God. And I am a first grade teacher.)

At times I feel inadequate because I wasn’t trained as a teacher and I had little time to prepare for this year. But inadequacy is not who I am, and I can be a better teacher if I read about education this summer. So I will.

In the meantime, I will relish in the happy forest at my feet.

It was Religion time the other day at school and I knelt with my students on the red rug near the prayer table. My eyes were nearly shut for our minute mediation when one little girl decided it was a good time to leap into my arms, curl her legs around my waist, throw her hands in the air and shout, “I’m floating!”

“I’m floating?!" And you’ve impulsively secured yourself to my body?

I could not contain my laughter. Not even after a couple of minutes. I was shocked and amused.

There’s no sense of boundaries with kids. They don’t watch safe environment videos. They are innocent and vulnerable, courageous and funny. They are who they are and they exemplify to me in this moment the way to heaven. Thank you, God.

So, happiness... Kale smoothies? Maybe. Time with my roommate? Yes. First grade antics? Yes. Right now? Yes.

There is a time a time to plan and a time to float. Right now is the time for me to float in the arms of Jesus: legs wrapped tight, hands up, head back and a glorious shout of freedom—“I’m floating!”

Thank you Jesus for little daily presents.

Planks

Our school play Peter Pan was a sweet success today. It was beautiful to watch the family-like community of children fill the roles --we use what we got and God always provides, which is heartwarming to see. 

The only downfall was that my "hunting children" and " dancers" missed snack recess and only got about 20 minutes of outdoor time during lunch. We were all a bit antsy by the end of the day. So I led a gym class in my classroom.

It included calsthetics, situps, push-ups, and even the plank position. The situps and push-ups were amusing to watch, but nothing beat the plank. 

The class assumed their positions, which looked more like downward dog than plank, and one little girl laid flat on the floor with arms stretched up and legs out.

"I'm doing it," she shouted. "I'm totally doing it!"

Ah, the laughter bubbled up ... I bet you are...

I bet God delights in our enthusiasm, when we're trying our best even if we're totally failing. I wonder if He finds our attempts amusing. Thank you, God, for the planks of today--the pirates in Peter Pan, the gym in my classroom, and the wooden beams still in my eyes. Please help me get rid of those ones. Through Mary. Amen.

Pulled pork n babies

Wilbur doesn’t die in Charlotte’s Web, but if he did, I’d sure like to cook ’im. I never made pulled pork before tonight, but oh my great glory be: that stuff on my plate was mighty tasty!

Thank you God for Monday night Bible study and the beloved daughter of God who gave me the recipe.

Is it possible for pulled pork to bring me closer to Jesus? Yes. 

And other simple things help me snuggle up to His heart too.

Like babies.

Babies are to the heart what pulled pork is to the taste buds. They make the heart sing with joy.

Four babies came into my life last week. Two crawled on the secretary’s floor at school during my prep period. I didn’t plan; they came prepared. With belly laughter. And squirming. And silly faces. And chubby limbs. I crawled right up to their faces and we shared instant delight.

At Mass later that day, my friend plopped her baby in my lap from the pew behind me while I listened to the reading. Total surprise and total joy. My arms had ached to hold a baby and God just put one right in them. Thank you, God.

Another friend and I caught up Friday over homemade kettle corn -- an indulgence similar to pulled pork, but not necessarily the kind that gets time off purgatory…

Her baby was kind enough to spit up on me while I jostled his giggly body on my lap. Sorry, baby! But it didn't bother me.

Why? Because babies make the world go ‘round.

Babies do about five things: eat, sleep, laugh, cry, digest. And yet they make miracles happen in people’s lives.

I looked at my friend’s baby and thought about that. This child will be an old man one day. He might only be able to do the same five things then. In both cases, he can totally transform someone else’s life. He changed mine on Friday.

I talked to a friend last weekend and told him I felt stupid because I sometimes feel like I can only do about five things at this point in my life. He encouraged me that everyone needs special education--not in a way that disrespects anyone with intellectual disabilities, but that recognizes everyone's need to learn about of the integration of God's presence throughout one's imperfect life differently. 

I’ve heard that before at another point in my life as motivation to be compassionate toward someone who had hurt me, recognizing that person's weaknesses as well as his best attempt to love me in the moment. This time, I took the same advice but connected it to myself and my own weaknesses and need for special education. I also thought about a time last year when sad issues arose in my mind.

I was angry then and felt jipped, like I had gone to the wrong university my whole life. Now, I am learning, and relearning, that I need to keep learning. Simply. Nobody's perfect. And it’s a process of growth.

The special education I need today is to focus on the positive. My Zumba instructor encouraged us tonight to think about something positive in our lives while we did plank position... Wait what? Oh the pain! 

She said for every three negative things we think, we usually only think of one positive. 

I thought, I know what darkness is. But if I overanalyze the darkness, how will I have time to ever appreciate the light?

And once I see it, should I look for the outlet, wonder about stocking up on extra bulbs, worry that the darkness will snuff it out? No.

Instead I will sit in the sun and feel it’s warmth. And I won’t think too hard. I'll simply repeat that same old simple mantra: “Be still and know that I am God.” And let it soak in like a baby well fed.

God, thank you for loving me today in the sweet, in the savory, in the simple. Amen.

Bean Salad and First Grade Crap

Stories are important. And staying in one place is important too--so I can listen better. 

"Be still and know that I am God" is a Bible verse I've prayed daily for four years and I'm just starting to realize now how important it is.

When I am still, I am present. Then, I can more easily recognize tidbits of joy around me...

Like lying in a hammock today, and feeling like I was being held in the womb of creation! Or taking a bath, or making beautiful, gourmet bean salad. Or enjoying my first graders.

Here's some more life glitter:

I read Pope Francis' book The Joy of the Gospel in the bath. My bookmark fell out and got soaked. Ironically it was a picture of a swimmer for the verb game in my classroom and it said "swim" on it.

In car line conversation after school I asked my student, "What are your chickens' names?"

"I only know mine," he replied.

"What is it?" 

"Flapper II." 

"What happened to Flapper the first?" 

"He died." 

Oh yeah, how could I forget that he was eaten by wild animal? 

I shared the story at a party later that night; my friend said her husband babysat for kids whose hermit crabs were named "Smiley Face" and "Wizard."

Earlier that day my kids began to make scrapbooks of their first grade experiences. One child realized he needed a break before he was finished the last word of the title. 

He inadvertently forgot the "S" at the beginning of the word and stopped midway when he realized he needed to use the bathroom... "My First Grade Crap." There are so many ways this story could go... 

Just like the adventure of living in one place with Faith and the Holy Spirit...

Our Father

You know how so-and -so reminds you of so -and-so? Like kids and parents, friends and people that other acquaintances haven't met.

A baby's born and everybody wants to know who he resembles. A new person joins a community and those who met him tell others who he's like...

Humans seem to crave familiarity. Something I can relate to, shared interest or knowledge, a place of comfort.

You know Who Jesus reminds me of? His Father. 

Not only does He look like Him --"made in God's image;" He points me to Him-- "no one comes to the Father except through me;" and He is Him in some mysterious divine way-- "the Father and I are one."

Jesus, if I look at Your cross I will come to know the Father's love for me. 

Thank you for existing so I can seek familiarity with Your lovable face, and You can create a place in my heart for Our Father.

Biker for Jesus

A "Biker for Jesus" flashed me the peace sign after I cut him off on the road today.

At first the man shook his head back-and-forth in what I saw as annoyance. After I kept a good distance, he moved his head up-and-down as if he affirmed my new choice.

I wondered if that's how God looks at me: ready to forgive after I make a mistake.

Yes. God is just AND merciful.

The biker's presence was a real sign of God's love and a reminder for me to slow down and soak in it. Lord, keep nudging me to watch out for your mercy on the road of life.

Thank you for your love. Amen.

Fatted Calf

It's time to kill the fatted calf. My keys that were once lost have been found. Praise the Lord!

I was looking for my Miraculous Medal, which is also been lost for some weeks, when St. Anthony came through.

He did not give me what I was looking for at that moment, but he gave me something else that I was looking for.

I think God works that way too. I'm searching for one thing I think I need, but God is giving me something else I need in that moment. 

Lord, help me to remember to thank You when You answer my prayers in ways I do not expect. In Your creativity, You give me joy and reveal a plan for my good.

Thank you, Father. Though Mary. Amen.