Flying high

Yes, I smell like a fresh spring breeze. Estée Lauder outfitted me with a free spritz of "pleasures" perfume at the airport store.

I considered the added pleasure of a complimentary manicure  with the sample polish but was dissuaded by another woman in the store who applied sample cream to face. She told me once she was so zealous in her application that guilt got her and she went back to buy the expensive stuff. I didn't want to face the same cosmetic contrition.

What to do with a three hour layover...

Calsthetics were completed in the restroom; I did stretches and 30 jumping jacks. And inspired another woman to stretch as well -- we discussed airport exercise classes: probably a genius/bank business venture.

I ate a complete dinner including salad, chips and peanut M&Ms. And avoided the pricey "smart" water thanks be to God-- the woman at the checkout told me point blank that it was six dollars. I wonder if she instinctively knew my budget or if she gives everyone that save/sage advice. I asked for tap water instead and the guy who filled the plastic cup warned me, "It's not healthy water."

Thank you, New York City. Please excuse me while I get out my Bunsen burner, travel-sized collapsible pot and boil it. (This facet-fresh water had a crisp minerally taste a grade above the water from the house where I was raised).

Other fun adventures include people I encountered. 

I observed a woman who donned a shirt with the wings on the back--almost as if she was ready to run down the runway and spread wide her arms. Here we go… Ready for lift off!

---
Another woman I met had a different kind of heavenly experience.

My seat buddy on the flight to New York City was overcome with Believer joy. She is a motivational speaker who teaches kids how to make goals, encourage one another, and the live as champions through a presentation that includes yo-yo and magic tricks.

We shared stories of how God acted in our lives, and how His timing is impeccable. 

A couple years ago, she heard a voice inside her tell her to apply for a job offer she received in a random email she had deleted because she thought it was scam. 

The Spirit told her to apply for the job using her phone. She called the company and it turned out it was the last day to apply and there was one spot left. 

The job took her to a different state two weeks before she had planned to go overseas. 

She originally balked at the offer to stay stateside, but again heard a voice inside her say "You will meet your husband there." And she did--eight months later, right when she put in her job resignation.

Now she is overseas for the same amount of weeks that her husband has to travel for his job. Again the timing was Divinely planned.

Thank you, God, for this woman, and for the airport employee who tracked down my bag after I lost the luggage slip, and the lady who escorted me and another gentleman (who let me follow him) to a different building so we could find our departure gate.

My sister and her fiancé took me to the airport and watched me all the way through security-- they waved with enthusiasm, and sent me a love text .

All these encounters are little signs of God's enormous love for me. Thank you, Father, for escorting me on this trip.

Little Lovely Light

Today’s Morning Prayer reminds me again to praise God and focus on the Good News.  

“Whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is gracious, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.”

“Whatever is lovely”... I wonder if a journalist was ever asked in a job interview, “Tell me about a story you covered that was lovely.”

Yet there is something compelling about lovely stories. Not overly sentimental, Utopian fluff, but real accounts of simple perseverance and everyday valor.

A few such stories have come across my being recently. (I don’t have a desk; rather face to face interactions with people are mostly where I get my stories).

My co-worker got a new job as a headmaster at our sister school. He taught for six years at the school where I teach and is perfect for this new job. His students’ witness is also a testament to his formation of them and the students’ faith in the power of prayer. They prayed for him all year for a “special intention”—which could be anything; their consistent appeal was heard by God.

Two friends got the jobs for which I interviewed this year before I decided to teach again next year. I am so happy for them! The jobs are interesting and they are well fitted for the positions.

A friend who has lived as a single parent for five years, was not religious and was adverse to marriage is excited at the prospect of a relationship with a Christian man.

Another friend got a new job closer to her house.

And all of my seven first graders were promoted to second grade! Before the graduation Mass last Friday I asked my students what we need to remember when we are in a public forum.

“To act as butlers,” one of my students said with the confidence that comes from a year of training in this subject.

“Ambassadors,” I corrected with such enthusiasm that she probably thought she said that word herself.

I also went to a farm last weekend and talked with a man who had Asperger’s. He interacted with the world in a refreshing way.

“Do you know that person?” asked another farm guest of this man.

“Hmm. I don’t know. Let me see,” he said as he quickly got up and left the room to go look at the person this other farm guest mentioned.

He got up to see. That is lovely and honorable. He took the question seriously and acted. He recognized the importance of each person.

Another man took care of the bees. He opened the hives to show me and another guest the secret inner workings and hours later, brought honey combs to us so we could taste the first fruits of the season. It took him a while to check the hives, which he did with gentle attentiveness, then he thought of sharing his love for the bees and their products with us.

St. John wrote, “Walk while you have the light, so that darkness may not overcome you.” (12:35). Flickers of light appear every day. If I catch them and watch them glow like fireflies in a peanut butter jar, the darkness will fade away.

Thank you God for Little. Daily. Light. Lovely Good News.

HPE

HPE: He Provides Everything. That's my choice today in the license plate game.

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.