Service

“Work harder, not smarter.” “Don’t reinvent the wheel.” “What if money were no object?” “Follow your heart.”

What happens when you aren’t sure what your passion is and where your heart wants to go? What happens after 20 years of teaching and you don’t want to go back…not because of the kids but because of the excessive drama and negativity of peers.

I’ve taken a leap of faith with my family and moved to a new town with no job leads. For the first time in my career I don’t have a job and the school year will start in a few short weeks, and I’m fine with that. I’m appreciating the fact that I can work harder and smarter, I can reinvent myself, and I can follow my heart…money will come in time. My biggest challenge is figuring out which path to take. Is teaching my true passion or is it just a habit, a way of life, something I am comfortable with and am good at?  I know what I like to do but had to ask my husband what he thinks I am passionate about. I just couldn’t come up with a tidy answer to fit in the box today. “Baking…baking makes you happy, especially when you do it for others. Actually, doing things for others is when you are most happy.”

He’s right. I like doing things for others, it gives me a sense of peace and accomplishment, and it brings me joy. Our diocesan theme this year is Called to Serve, something I feel was amazingly easy for me to fall into as a camp teacher. We spent a week talking to students about how to serve those with varying needs; those who are hungry, suffering, needy, and lonely. We talked about serving those we were with and those we would meet after leaving camp. We provided a service toolkit with tangible ideas for campers to use as they left. We heard a homily about loving yourself as your neighbor, focusing on yourself more than your neighbor since many of us neglect our own care. Maybe it’s time to listen to what I have been teaching and look for more ways to serve others, to make others happy and in so doing I will know my passion and which path my heart wants to take. I will start by serving my family more rather than having a long commute followed by incredibly long hours at work with just enough time to get home and be exhausted. In serving my family I will be able to serve and care for myself, someone I have neglected to take care of, especially in the last few years. I will find the joy in simple daily tasks and not feel rushed in having to accomplish everything on my list, and complete it all in time to go to bed and rush off to another 12 hour day right away outside the home. My family is my life and my joy will only increase with time better spent with them.

Camp Capers is my road map

I am at a cross roads in life, we have taken a leap of faith and purchased a home in another town where we have family. I have resigned from my job. We have put our house on the market. My husband and I don’t have job leads despite multiple applications. I spend many days packing and cleaning the grand collection of “stuff” we have accumulated in this home of 15 years. I find myself struggling mainly with the end of this chapter, leaving here means leaving the life I once led. I miss my best friend who has been gone for 8 years now, I miss my Mom who has been gone for almost two. I feel this makes the loss of them both even more final than it already is.

I am realizing this path of drastic change did not start this year, it started last year. I began a new job on a new campus, my Mom died the day before inservice started. I went to work within three days to maintain my sanity and find a new normal. The classroom I was assigned to came with its own set of challenges but best of all, its own set of blessings. I learned a little about advocating for myself despite spending years trying to teach students to do the same thing. I had a group of seniors who kept me on my toes and kept me busy and gave me love, support, and a really hard time some days. In the spring, my husband’s father passed away after a long illness adding to the already long and stressful year we were living.  Some of these young people are happily still in my life to give me love, support, and reminders of that hard time they gave me. I get to see them grow instead of sending a class on its way and hope they are still doing well. I get to learn from them.

At the end of last school year I was fortunate enough to be invited to co teach with a dear friend and colleague at Camp Capers. Teaching is easy, teaching at church camp would stretch my brain in different ways. I was familiar with Camp Capers through my child who willingly went to summer camp the first year he could even though he had not previously spent a night away from us. He had two church buddies in the cabin with him and started his week off waving goodbye and plunging headlong into what I now know will be one of the biggest foundations of his life.  Last summer I dropped my child off knowing when I picked him up I would turn around and go to camp myself in under 24 hours. As I sat in our first meeting with staff I heard what a rough week it had been for many of the staff the previous week, I saw the tired faces and the stress of not knowing how our team would mesh with the summer staff. I wanted to ease those frustrations with a tale of my son’s week, in his words, the best week ever! I started telling the staff, none of whom I knew, about how wonderful my child’s week had been, how he had lost two grandparents that school year, life had been hard, and camp had helped him heal; somewhere in the middle of that explanation I broke down. Instead of comforting the staff, I was the stranger in the room who needed comfort and added to their already weary summer. And yet, I was welcomed with open arms. I taught, I learned the songs my son knew, I was pushed by the schedule physically and mentally. I was strongly but lovingly encouraged by the chaplain to help lead a chapel service; this was way out of my comfort zone. My turn came during night chapel at the swimming pool. After an open swim session and snacks we gathered around the pool and my co teacher held my hand through the service. Last year’s theme was gifts, “For God hath not given us the spirit of fear, but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.”

2 Timothy 7 lives on my Twitter bio as a reminder that this experience was a gift to me, chapel at the pool was a fresh beginning, shaping my  life and sending me on a  new path I didn’t realize at the time. Camp Capers was the beginning of my healing process.  I have been invited back to teach and learn again with the same leadership group this summer with a theme of service.

Early this school year I began to lose my way, drowning in the negativity of yet another new team I was teaching with. I fell victim to fear rather than reminding myself I had a spirit of power. I doubted my sound mind and many years of experience on the whim of some far less experienced than myself. I didn’t love the person I was becoming in the classroom or out. We began to talk as a family about moving closer to extended family for support. 

Throughout the last year I have found friendships with several people in the Camp Capers family, most of them half my age with much to teach me as I watch them grow. Several of those have written blogs recently, some about camp and some about themselves, all of which have served as a tool to help me find my way on this new path. I am learning once again not to be afraid of loneliness; I will love myself. I will move and let myself be moved (Thank you, Lukas) I will rejoice in following this path and appreciate the opportunity I have to recreate myself after 20 years of teaching public education as I continue to actively search for God in my relationships (Thank you, Amanda). The true lessons I need are those I began to learn at Camp Capers last year and are all waiting for me when I go back to camp in a few weeks. I need to fully embrace who God created me to be and not be worried about what others think, it takes courage to let my freak flag show a little bit every once in a while, but it is definitely worth it. (Thank you, Adriana). 

Squirrel!

I try to keep the backyard well fed and well watered, the critters appreciate it. Sometimes I think I spoil the critters as evidenced by this guy who was letting me know I was falling down on the job of daily feeding time.

Ready for Spring

I am not sure if I am being lulled into a false sense of spring arriving with this beautiful weather or if we will have another freeze. I just wanted to share a few photos of flowers that have been brightening my kitchen the past week.

                                                         Valentine roses from my sweetie

                                                               Gerbera Daisies from a student

Happy Hibiscus blooming in the kitchen window

                                      Primrose on clearance for $1.00 at the grocery store

                                                 
                                                      Violets are finally blooming again

No More Jack in the Box!

OK, Fettuccine Alfredo Girl....

Sorry we didn't get this lesson in before we left! I am going to explain and show pictures for one part of the dish at a time. The whole thing took me a little over 45 minutes but I also stopped to take pictures and do a load of laundry for Nana  ;)  as I went along.

Cut up your chicken into chunks and put it in your square glass dish (I used more chicken than you will and a larger dish), give it a few good shakes of salt and pepper and cover it with 1/2 cup of water, stir it around to make sure all the pieces have some seasoning on them. Put it in the oven at 350 for about 30 minutes. Wash your cutting board, knife, and counter really well with soap and water.

When it comes out, it will have a bit of a film on it from any fat not removed, just stir it around, it will be fine.

See? All good.

Get your broccoli out, we talked about making sure it is dark green at the store. I forgot to tell you to look at the stalk and make sure it is not moldy. Rinse your broccoli and use a different cutting board for this. Try to have a plastic/glass for meat and a different one for veggies and fruit. Cut the bottom of the stalk off and then turn it over - you'll see natural places to break off  "the branches" - cut the stalk some more if needed.

 Don't be afraid to cut it into smaller pieces - this is not an exact sceince - it's what you want!

 

 

Put a pot of water on, once it boils, toss it in. I cook mine for about 5 mins - cook yours longer for mushier or shorter for crunchier. Again, it is an experiment. Keep trying until you get it the way you want it.

Follow directions for the pasta - you don't need help reading the box :) Pour it out away from you, not towards you and GO SLOW. The steam hurts - A LOT.

Alfredo sauce - the part you have been waiting for......

 

You like the tub butter for your bread and for spreading - that is fine. When you cook, you need stick butter - it's just different. One stick of butter, 1/2 block of cream cheese, 1 cup of parmesan and 2 tablespoons of milk. Put it all in the pan together on low  to medium low heat.

 

Stir it every couple of minutes.

It gets thick.

 

 When it gets to be a giant blob that looks a little like paste take it off the stove and add 1/4 cup of milk and stir some more. The parmesan we bought is a little thick and didn't melt completely, I promise everyone here ate it any way.

Arrange it on your plate and be proud - you DID IT!!!

 

There is enough sauce for you, Nana, and Dixie to eat one meal and freeze the same amount for a second meal.

Ponchoswaddlingblanket

I found a pair of knitting needles tucked away in a bag with a few rows of pink I had started many years ago. I was determined to finish it off for a girlfriend having her first child. My first blanket was made a little over 9 years ago, for my own child; this would be my second full fledged attempt at knitting a blanket. Assisted by youtube videos it came back pretty quickly. Once I got to the end (another youtube video) I misjudged how much was left and by the time I realized I was going to run out and not have enough to finish off the row it was too late. I couldn't figure out how to take a row off either. Off to the store to see what I could find remotely close to the 8 year old yarn I had started with. I found a complementary color and added it on.

I finished it off and ended up with a long crooked strip of a blanket and wondered how I could camouflage it into something a bit more presentable.

And decided it was just crooked enough to look like a poncho, so I improvised. After finishing off the last row with beige, I then "wove" the beige through the outside edge of the rest of it and added a few tassels.

I finished up with a ponchoswaddlingblanket for new baby - made with way more love than skill.

 

A good friend reminded me the best thing about crafts is that no one has to know what the real plan was.

 

"God knows I'm tough enough (I am tough, I am loved"

As foster parents we have hit rock bottom. In the 10 months since our foster son has been here we have had a roller coaster life that we could have never imagined. My husband has answered the question, “How is it?” with “the highs are higher and the lows are lower than we anticipated.”

Our private agency has been far less supportive then promised in our initial training and we have not been able to successfully stay in touch with any members of our class. We aren’t sure where normal is. We have our normal, case workers tell us the behaviors we see in our foster child are normal. There is a huge gap in these two normals. I often don’t know who to talk to and feel  alone on this road I strongly encouraged my husband to take with me.

My husband always tells me church makes me feel better. When we get lazy and don’t go he sees a difference. We were traveling home last week and missed church and due to squabbling boys while I was greeting, we almost missed again today. We walked out the door and to the edge of the courtyard and stopped, talked, and went back in to try again.

During my time greeting, the Bishop’s wife stopped to talk to me and talked to the boys as they were bickering over who was going to sit on which step. She told me she has grandsons who are 15 months apart and says they have fought since day 1. I explained our older child had been an only child until 10 months ago when he finally received the sibling he had always wanted and we were still learning what was “normal” and what was not. She said one of those grandchildren had just been diagnosed with Type II diabetes and they were all getting used to their “new normal.”

The sequence hymn was "Amazing Grace", one of the songs on the soundtrack of my life.

Prior to Sunday school, the lead teacher looked at me and said, “I would really like to talk to you and hear your story.” I told her this wasn’t the best week to be asking; she answered she would rather hear it on a bad week. Adoption has always been a goal of hers and everything she has read has talked about how difficult it really is. We talked a bit about support systems etc and told her we felt we had pretty much hit rock bottom the other day and now it was fix it or quit. I told her there were other families at work that had been through fostering and adoption but it isn’t a big open discussion that I can pick up the phone and just call any of them to talk. She said she felt like many people probably ended up with the same feelings we have but that it is very hard to talk about and admit to those feelings to anyone when times are bad. It was a very genuine warm conversation and I felt like she really did care about our success and that she did want to listen and help in any way she could.

After church we ended up walking out to the parking lot with the Bishop and his wife and as she was walking away she said, “remember puppies, let them grow together and they will nip at each other and growl at each other, but they will grow.”

We are slowly bridging the sometimes seemingly huge chasm of normals to find OUR new normal. I have support that I didn’t realize I have and continue to find more support on a daily basis. I know I am not alone in this adventure as a foster mom.

Jason Mraz has a song entiled, "I Won't Give Up" which is currenlty another song on the soundtrack of my life.

"I Won't Give Up" from  www.azlyrics.com

Hmmmm ... Hmmmm ... Hmmmm ... Hmmm ...

When I look into your eyes
It's like watching the night sky
Or a beautiful sunrise
There's so much they hold
And just like them old stars
I see that you've come so far
To be right where you are
How old is your soul?

I won't give up on us
Even if the skies get rough
I'm giving you all my love
I'm still looking up

And when you're needing your space
To do some navigating
I'll be here patiently waiting
To see what you find

'Cause even the stars they burn
Some even fall to the earth
We've got a lot to learn
God knows we're worth it
No, I won't give up

I don't wanna be someone who walks away so easily
I'm here to stay and make the difference that I can make
Our differences they do a lot to teach us how to use
The tools and gifts we got yeah, we got a lot at stake
And in the end, you're still my friend at least we did intend
For us to work we didn't break, we didn't burn
We had to learn how to bend without the world caving in
I had to learn what I've got, and what I'm not
And who I am

I won't give up on us
Even if the skies get rough
I'm giving you all my love
I'm still looking up
Still looking up.

I won't give up on us (no I'm not giving up)
God knows I'm tough enough (I am tough, I am loved)
We've got a lot to learn (we're alive, we are loved)
God knows we're worth it (and we're worth it)

I won't give up on us
Even if the skies get rough
I'm giving you all my love
I'm still looking up