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Where Did the Sun Go?

2/24/2013

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“I stayed up all night wondering what happened to the sun………and then it dawned on me.”

I have done a lot of figurative “staying up all
night” these past two days.  As we knelt together by our bed last night, almost too emotionally fatigued even to pray, I said to Lance,“It sure seems like life is designed to make one feel like
a failure.”

“Failure” seems to run like an announcement/declaration across
the bottom of the screen of everything I do
lately.

“Failure” flashes every morning when I step on the scale.  I am up 10 pounds but cannot seem to control myself; the urgent need to eat accompanies me every waking moment.

“Failure” rips my heart every morning when I feed the sheep.    Wednesday evening our Suffolk ewe had two healthy, hearty sons.  The twin ram lambs were perfect in every way.  We checked on them through the night and periodically throughout the next day.    Every time we looked in on them, they had full tummies, wagging tails, and bright, alert eyes.  Friday morning I found one lying prostrate on the barn floor; he was alive but barely……and not for long.   He died in my arms for reasons unknown.   

Why can’t I raise sheep now?    When I was young it was so easy.    We fed them, bred them, and watched the lambs grow.   Now all I do successfully is feed them.   Last year we had two ewes; one did not get pregnant and the other gave birth to a single lamb.  [Generally sheep have twins.]   Both lamb and ewe died; the ewe from a prolapsed uterus and pinched spinal cord and the lamb was smothered when the ewe flopped on it.   The year before the ewe we bought from a man in Logan crawled under a manure spreader in the breeder’s pasture and died.  [The man has had the spreader in his pasture for years; none of his sheep have ever crawled under it and died.]   The year before that the ewe we bought from a local breeder had a miscarriage; again, no lambs.    During those two years, our other ewe gave birth to twins each year but, two years in a row, she rejected one of the lambs a couple days after it was born, effectively sentencing it to death.  We got rid of her but that did not bring the lambs back.  Tired of seeing lambs die, I bought a Soay ewe.  [Soays are a heritage breed, supposedly much heartier than the domestic breeds.]  The Soay gave birth last week to a single, still born lamb.  She did not even bother to lick it off.     What am I doing wrong?

“Failure” screams at me when I look at Chick’s grades.   Once again he has D’s and F’s at midterm.    How is it that he is seventeen and his mother has not taught him how to be responsible academically?  And what about his driver’s license?  And a job? Surely, as his mother, I should have structured his choices in such a way that he would choose to get good grades, obtain his driver’s license, and find a job.

“Failure” punches me when I look at Tanah’s teeth.    Though she had braces, her teeth are twisting crooked again.  I cannot get her to wear her retainer.   

“Failure” gut punched me at the Parent-Daughter Engineering Day Grace and I attended yesterday.   Our first task was to design a three-fingered prosthetic hand, using only 3x5 cards, tape, string, pipe cleaners, popsicle sticks, 2 syringes, and a length of rubber tubing, that could pick up a wad of paper.  We were given no instructions.    Totally flummoxed and very
frustrated, I was no help to my daughter. Surrounded by dads who jumped eagerly into the task, excitedly helping their daughters create masterpieces, all I could do was stare at the pile of  materials.  Grace was totally on her own.

“Failure” condemns me disgustedly everywhere I look in my house.   I see mildew on the shower ceiling, handprints on doors, shoes in hallways, and socks strewn everywhere.   My house is not clean.

“Failure” yells at me during my first period class as I repeatedly have to draw them back on task after each demonstration
that I do.    They simply talk out too much and the problem is epidemic; everyone in the class does it.   I have failed to hold
them to an acceptable standard of behavior.

“Failure” echoes through the vaults of our empty bank account.   Since my EHS job dried up, we have had to dip into the savings account every month to make ends meet.      The amount of money in our savings account is very finite; we cannot continue dipping for much longer.    Why can’t I make due on a one-and-a-half teacher’s salary?

So, lately I have figuratively “stayed up all night wondering what happened to the sun”; why are things so dark?  Why am I failing as a mother, teacher, wife, sheep breeder, person?

And then it dawned me………..

Grace and I are working together to earn our Young Woman’s Recognition Award.  [An award opportunity, similar in rigor to the Boy Scout’s Eagle, that the LDS Church provides for girls ages 12-18.  Mothers are allowed to earn it with their daughters if they desire. ] As one of the requirements I was to read the Standards for Youth pamphlet and pick three areas in which I need to improve and practice the chosen standards for three weeks.    I chose gratitude as one of my three areas.

Gratitude.

Gratitude brought an end to my figurative night as the realization dawned on me that I am truly blessed.   I have food, LOTS of GOOD food.   My darling son Chick is incredibly respectful, obedience, and helpful.  He tells me he loves me regularly and
never, NEVER rebels.  He is a completely good hearted person and I am so grateful that he is part of my life.   Sweet Tanah is also a genuinely good hearted person who understands people and goes out of the way to meet their needs.   She is talented and funny and fun and she talks to me.   I treasure the chats we have.  Grace, determined little “Scrapper”that she is, did not need my help to make a prosthetic hand; she took ownership and did it by herself.   My house, though not clean,
is generally tidy; my children are not ashamed to bring their friends here.   First period is getting better and their noise is not disrespectful, just animated.   We pay tithing so the Lord’s  promised blessings will kick it someday (soon, I hope!!).  I am still struggling to feel grateful for the single surviving lamb—every morning when I go down to feed the sheep I see the lonely little guy and have a good cry—but I trust the pain will fade eventually.    

Gratitude brought dawn to me and the more I counted my blessings, the brighter the dawning light became.   More reasons for gratitude……..

I took the kids cross country skiing last weekend.   We skied up Old Snow Basin road and ate cold lunches (really cold!) on a snow bank overlooking the Snow Basin parking lot.    The day was crisp and clear.   Though our start was a bit rough (Miles:  I hate this, this is stupid, I never wanted to come, I am not going any further), we had a great finish. We skied up for 2 hours and back down in 30 minutes.  Miles, and everyone else, loved it.   “Thanks so much for taking us,” all the kids said repeatedly.

Third grade drama continues. Miles said, “I think M—  just likes me as a friend
now.”
   Why?  “Because she does the poking stuff only once a week.”   Thanks for sharing!

Alex, a 10 year old neighbor boy, is mildly autistic.   He  visits us regularly.    Tuesday he sat in our kitchen, facing the corner bird cage, and talked to the bird for about 30 minutes, telling Babs about his school day.   About a month ago Miles invited him to attend Cub Scouts.   Alex does not have many friends and eagerly accepted the invitation.   In fact, he really does not have any friends.   Or should I say, didnot have many friends.  Now he has friends.   He has come to Cubs for four weeks; last week he went even though Miles did not go.   This week he and his mother attended the Blue and Gold banquet.  The Bear leader (Gabbi  Simonson) is truly an angel.   She made sure Alex got an award at the banquet.   Before and after the banquet, Alex ran wild in the gym with rest of the Cubs, thoroughly enjoying the chaos.    Said Alex, “I love your  church!  I am going to change to your church because you have a gym.”  [The Cub Scout troop is sponsored by our church, all the leaders are called from members of our local congregation and meetings are held in our church building.]  When I explained
that we do not run around the gym on Sundays he was not so eager to change religions but his enthusiasm for Cubs has not dampened.  I am grateful for a son who accepts everyone as his friend and a Bear leader who sees and meets children’s needs. 

This week I am taking 90 8th graders on a field trip to the Utah Museum of Natural History and Tracy Aviary so last Monday (President’s Day) Miles and I went there on a reconnaissance mission.  [See photos]    What a blessing to be able to spend a day with my son.

A couple we know got divorced and Lance spent an hour or so talking to the rejected husband.   The poor man is SO
devastated.   About the divorce he said, “She did not know what she wanted but she knew what she did not
  want.  Me.”   Repeatedly, since their conversation, Lance has said, “Thanks for staying married to me.”  I am so grateful to be married to a man who treasures me.

We have some dear friends (who happen to be my dad’s cousins) who are serving an LDS mission in Siberia.  From them I recently learned of a Siberian tradition I plan to adopt.   When couples get married, they engrave their names on a padlock, secure the lock on a fence or a bridge, and throw away the key. Theirs is a symbolic act, testifying that their hearts and lives are forever locked together.   Look for an engraved padlock on our front fence soon.

Ope!   The dawn has come.  The sun is shining brightly outside and I must go.

Love you!
Teresa

P.S.  Happy 24th!   Twenty-four is such a great number!!!!!!!!!!!!!


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Hislops do cross country skiing
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Siberian locked hearts
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Grace with two five fingered hands, two five toed feet, and some great ski style.
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Not even cross country skiing can come between a teen and her phone.
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These are MY boys!!
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Being behind chains is not the same as being behind bars.
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Why didn't the skeleton cross the road?
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Miles would not look at the camera....until I said "Green Bay stinks!"
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Parent-Daughter Engineering Day. Grace is holding the three fingered hand she designed. I am holding her.
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Drinkin' and skiing!
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Food's cold! Come and get it!!!!
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See what happens if you don't brush your teeth every day....
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............and if you don't wear your retainer!!!!
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He didn't have enough guts.
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Tanah made this pillow at the Relief Society Super Saturday while Grace and I made prothetic hands. To each her own.
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Kids Say the Darndest Things

2/20/2013

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Kids say the darndest things!  Art Linkletter started documenting some of the darndest things said by kids on his radio show House Party and his television series Art Linkletter’s House Party. Bill Cosby continued the tradition in his “Kids Say the Darndest Things”comedy series, a CBS show that aired from 1998 to 2000.    Now it is my turn.   Kids do say the darndest things
and, with my  church calling in Primary, my professional calling at Ogden Preparatory Academy, and my divine calling as a mother, I am exposed to a lot of kids who say a lot of “darndest”
things.

Last week in Primary I taught the children that it was part of God’s plan that Adam and Eve leave the Garden of Eden, an event we call the Fall.    In response to my question“Where did Adam and Eve live when they first came to Earth?” one young girl said, “England”.     Some may agree that England is like unto paradise but not many….

When I taught the concept to the older children (8-11 years old), I was inundated by a flood of questions that nearly washed me away.   “How is God all powerful?”  “What made Jesus good and Satan bad?”  “How does God know everything?”   “Is the Garden of Eden still on Earth?”   “Why did God make Adam and Eve eat the fruit?”

In response to the last question, I explained that God did not MAKE Adam and Eve do anything.  In fact He does not MAKE anyone do anything. He has given us agency and He respects our ability to make choices.    “We cannot choose consequences but we can choose ouactions,” I taught, “and God will not interfere with our ability to choose.   He does not MAKE us do  anything.”

As I finished, Jake’s hand shot up and waved wildly.   Yes Jake?   

“God does not make us do anything,” Jake said, “but He sure gives us great advice.”   YES He does!!!

February 14th, 2013.   Third Period.   Just after the bell rings.  Eighth graders working mostly-quietly on the assigned task.  Teacher (me) taking roll.   Out of the blue, Josh—a quiet young man, one who rarely speaks at all and never voluntarily—says “Mrs. Hislop, Will you be my Valentine?”

“Absolutely,” I affirmed emphatically.  “I would LOVE to be your Valentine.  Thank you so much for asking….(Slight pause I recovered from the shock Josh’s invitation invoked)….Just what does that entail?”

Josh was silent but, from the seat behind him, Dallon was not.   “It means,” Dallon explained,“that Ben owes Josh $3.”       Ah
ha!

At parent teacher conference Ben’s mom told me that there is a sign on their bathroom door that reads “Science fair project in progress.  Do not enter!”     Love it.

 “I want to live until I am 87,” Miles declared.  Why?  Because 87 is the highest number worn by one of his top five favorite Green Bay football players.  

Studying for my climate science class is challenging with Mr.  I-cannot-go-32-seconds-without-mentioning-Green-Bay Miles.    My reading went something like this:

Read:  Total Sun Irradiance and sunspots.....
Hear: Mom, how do you spell awesome?”
Read:  “Climate switch back….
Hear:  “Mom, I am going to put a sign that says ‘Warning: Green Bay Territory’ on my door.”
Read:  There are three Milankovitch cycles:  eccentricity, obliquity, and…….
Hear:    “Where are the green and yellow markers Mom?”
Read:  The natural climate drivers are solar irradiance, greenhouse…..
Hear:   “Mom, Which ways does a ‘d’  go?”          
Read:  There are no known natural climate drivers that would cause the climate to warm as  much as it has over the last half century……..
Hear:   “Do you know where the tape is Mom?”

Miles likes a girl.   A girl!   And, like most men of all ages, he does not understand them very well.   “M---
does not like me anymore,”
he lamented.   Why do you say that?, I asked.   I accidentally insulted her best friend and her best friend told me that she does not like me now.”   Maybe her best friend just said that; maybe she does still like you.   Does she act like she likes you?   “She still pokes me during reading.”  Then she likes you.  “No, she just pokes me as a friend.”   Miles, do you poke people that are just your friends?   “No.”  Neither does she; if a girl pokes you, she likes you. “Oh.”  [GRIN]   Poke taken.

Lance asked Miles if he could teach him wrestling technique.  “But Dad,” Miles said, “You are too big for me.”   Tanah retorted, “With Dad and wrestling, one size fits all.”

Kids are not the only ones who say the darndest things.   Sometimes adults say some pretty crazy things too.    
 
When I awakened Lance Saturday morning he said, “Wait!I have to line up the apple cores.”   This, thought I, is going to be fun!

Me:  Line up the apple cores?
Lance:  Yes, I have to get them in a line.
Me:  You are going to put the apple cores in a line?.
Lance (impatiently):  YES.   I must put them in a line inside the dice.
Me:  Inside the dice?
Lance (even more impatiently): YES, in the dice.  In the 12 sided  dice.
Me:  12 sided dice?
Lance (really annoyed at my inability to understand him):  Yes, inside the 12 sided, pyrite dice.

Right.

So…………when the dog bites, when the bee stings, when I’m feeling sad……….I simply remember some the darndest
things, and then I don’t feel so bad!!!

Love,
Teresa


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Grace on the bench...but not for long.
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Grace and Tanah at the end of our annual frig cleaning
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Grace drives to the basket
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Grace makes her first shot in an SAA game. The team went wild (as did her mother!). YEA GRACE!
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Let's Be Friends

2/10/2013

2 Comments

 
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Safeway Inc., an American Fortune 500 company, is
the second largest supermarket chain in North America and had 1,694 stores
located throughout the western and central U.S. and western Canada as of
December 2010
[update].  My earliest shopping memories toddle
down the aisles of Bend, Oregon’s Safeway store and its sing-along jingle,
“Since We're Neighbors, Let's Be Friends”(1972–1979), still plays in my head occasionally.  It certainly was a catchy tune and, just as certainly, it is good advice.

We have great neighbor friends.   During the Christmas break Chris, our north-next neighbor, shoveled her entire, not-small driveway.   After a recent storm and after clearing our driveway, Tanah and I started clearing Chris’, hoping to save her the trouble.   We started…..but we did not finish.  Before we could even clear the sidewalk leading to her front door, Chris was outside, assuring us that her husband had fixed the snow blower and that we need not trouble ourselves.   We went home,
happy to have tried to help and even happier that we did not have to. [Chris has a large driveway.]

A few hours later Chris gave us a chocolate mousse pie for our non-efforts.  Talk about a good return!  We shoveled less than 10 minutes and were reward with 3,632 calories (454 calories per piece x 8 pieces) of chocolate delight.   Of course I needed to shovel snow for the next 48 hours straight to work off the delight…..

A few days later, after the next storm, Chris was in our driveway, with her snow blower, clearing our driveway which is also not-small.   Triple rewards!  [We took her a triple chocolate cake as payback.]

Last week I was teaching at OPA and watched from my classroom windows with dismay as a  afternoon storm dumped 4 inches of snow.  I dreaded having to scrape our not-small driveway when I returned from work.  [Teaching is an all-day, on-your-feet, physically-and-mentally challenging job and when I leave school at day’s end removing snow from my driveway is not what I want to do.]

I drove home and was parked before it dawned on me that I had entered my driveway unimpeded.  Where did the snow
go?  Hum……….Tire tracks and blade marks told me that someone with a machine larger than a snow blower was the culprit.   

Friday evening Grace and I took a couple of homemade cinnamon rolls to Barkers, our  next-next-north neighbors and thanked them profusely for plowing our driveway.    They were thrilled with our offering (though probably not as thrilled as we were that Kay had cleared our snow).

Saturday’s early morning brought another snow storm and Saturday’s late morning brought Kay Barker.  Clad in a snow suit and sitting atop his four-wheeler, he again serviced our snow.    Two cinnamon rolls for two driveway clearings.  Again, I think we came out ahead.

I’ve mentioned John, our north-then-around-the-corner-west neighbor, before; a crusty, often curmudgeony elderly gentleman who is as loyal as the moon, whose heart is sun-sized, and who is just as much a part of our world as the rings are of Saturn’s.  Darling John visited us this week to deliver his annual Valentine’s offering: a box of chocolates for each of us.   Clueless John said to Tanah, “Hey, you are getting pudgy around the middle” and then wondered why she left the room.   Faithful John (who has not been to church for years, who drinks coffee every morning, who cusses at his son and his neighbor’s cats, who brings vanilla up from Mexico for multiple ladies in the neighborhood, who prays for Lance’s well-being, and who paid for his ex-wife to visit her ailing father) complained because no one had been around to collect his fast offerings for two months.   [Not to be confused with tithing, fast offerings are what faithful Latter-Day-Saints pay on the
first Sunday of the month to help the poor and needy in their own  communities.]  “I sat near the window all day Sunday,” he lamented, “but no one came to get my money.”   Then he added a priceless gem.  “You know,” he continued, “it may seem silly but things just go better for me the months I pay fast offerings.   My money goes better; my health is better; things just go better.”    No, John, it is not silly.    And, thank you John, for your testimony, which was better even that the chocolates (and a lot more healthy!)

Juan (name changed), an 8th graders at OPA, had been a consistently inconsistent presence in my room; he attended
class once a month or so.   I sent an email to his other teachers and learned that they noticed the same pattern.  I contacted the administration and they sent a letter home.  I questioned his friends; where is Juan and why doesn’t he come to class?  Please tell him, I instructed them, that I miss him and want him here.    Serendipitously, he walked into class about 30 minutes after I grilled his peers.  So, I questioned him.  Where have you been? Why don’t you come to class?  How can I help?  What can I do to encourage you to come to school?   He answered all of my questions with the same phrase:  I don’t know.   I offered bribes—movies passes, iTunes vouchers, video tokens, ice cream, Wal-Mart gift cards—and was given the same answer every time.  No, he was not interested.    Finally I just begged.   Please come to school.  You are good at science (which happens to be true).    I like you. I need you in my classroom.    Please come. Please, please come.

Juan has come to school regularly for two weeks now.  Who knows why and who cares.  He is coming.   YEA!  Seeing him in class is a large YEA but the biggest YEA for me happened after school Wednesday.    In class that day I said, “Juan, while you were gone we started on our science fair projects.  Science fair is coming soon and we need to get you started onyours.   What do you want to do?”   [You can guess his answer.]    To his “I don’t know” I responded, “Can you come in after school today and I will help you with it?”   He agreed to see me after school.

I did not have very high expectations.   Only one in ten of the students who tell me that they are coming in after
school actually show up and the ones who do show are almost always honor students.   

The day’s last class was not even out of the door when Juan appeared at my elbow.   Seriously, thirty seconds after
the final bell rang, Juan was in my room.    Knock me down with a test tube!   YEA and YEA!

Who are our neighbors?   Christ was asked the same question (Luke 10:29).  Our neighbors are the people next-door
north and next-next-door north and north-around-the-corner-west and the young people with whom we associate and the old people with whom we associate and the young-middle, middle-middle, and old-middle people with whom we associate and
the people of all ages with whom we have not yet associated.   We live in a global community and, like it or not, we are all neighbors.    Since we’re neighbors, let’s be friends!!

 Love,
Teresa



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Insanity Is Better than Boredom

2/3/2013

3 Comments

 
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“Insanity is better than boredom.”   (Dan Parkinson). 

I am not bored………..Insane?  Maybe. Bored?  NEVER!!!

Things continue to rip along at a frenetic pace.   Zorro added football
gloves to his list of edible things.   Miles, who spent $15 of his own money to buy the football gloves, has a new and vehement NON-appreciation for our dog.

Miles was scratching Zorro’s belly and, noticing that his testicles were missing, asked “Where are Zorro’s hangy-down thingees?”   We explained that the dog had been castrated and, in response to Miles’ “Why”question, told him that it was done so that Zorro wouldn’t be a father.  “Good,” said Miles, “I want to get rid of mine too.”      We advised him to wait a couple years before acting on that decision.

Tanah got a new phone (see paragraph about Lance’s new business) and she and Grace (who was using my phone) got into a texting war.  Full of mischief and eager to join the fun, Miles grabbed my phone and texted “I hate you” to Tanah.  Or, rather, he thought he sent it to Tanah.   In reality he had responded to message from a woman in the ward telling us that her
son, who had open heart surgery that morning, was recovering well.    His “I hate you” was a reply-all  that went to the woman, most of the members of the ward, and to all her friends and family scattered across the United States…and it was sent from my phone so it carried my name.    Oh dear.

As part of a lesson on erosion, I showed my students a series of photos of a rock formation on the coast.  Over the course of about an 100 years, the rock goes from being the beach’s dominate feature to almost non-existence; hardly a remnant is visible in the 1970 photo.   When Josh (a student) saw the 1890 photo he asked me, “Did you take that picture?”    Sadly, it was a serious question. 
 
Who put my armpits so close to my face?    My knees have been going for a long time and now my eyes are joining them.   
I have to hold books a certain distance from my face; if they get too close the print blurs and I cannot read.    Now my armpits are too close; I cannot see to shave them.   How does one distance one’s eyes from one’s armpits?

Book Review:    How Chilldren Succeed  is a MUST READ for teachers and parents of infant to adolescent children and a highly recommended read for everyone else. In the book Paul Tough synthesizes biologic, academic, and psychological data to answer the question “What makes successful children?”.   His user-friendly writing style and plethora of stories make the book easy to read and his data-based conclusions are fascinating.    Read it and tell me what you think.  (http://www.amazon.com/How-Children-Succeed-Curiosity-Character/dp/0547564651/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1359905921&sr=1-1&keywords=how+children+succeed+by+paul+tough)

 If Lance were not Christian, he would be Buddhist.  The Eight Fold Path of the Middle Way (http://www.thebigview.com/buddhism/eightfoldpath.html) directs sincere souls on a path to core-deep goodness.   Though I know very little about Buddhism, what little I know gives me insight and leaves me wanting to know more.    I find the concepts deepen my Christian faith and the practice peaceful-izes my life.

I recently read a Buddhist-based discussion about self.  What is self? Is there permanent self, a single entity?  Or is it constantly changing?  If you were to describe your self to  another’s self, what would you say?   The question intrigued me.   People are always talking about finding themselves.   “I need to take time to find myself.”   “I am not sure who I am.”   “I found myself in ……”    I began pondering the question myself.

What is my self?   Am I the upbeat science teacher at Ogden Preparatory Academy whose smile fades only when the students mistreat a substitute? Or the almost distraught professional who stews about how to get third period to understand
the rock cycle?  Am I the positive Primary President who confidently invites teachers and children to come to
Christ?   Or the humbled  disciple who wonders how she could have failed to trust the Lord again?  Am I the confident person who steps forward in ward council to share an idea?  Or the reticent recluse who rarely says anything in faculty meeting?
 Am I the grumpy woman who looks with dismay at the pile of dirty clothes her husband leaves on the floor right in front of the dirty clothes basket?   Or the tenderhearted wife whose gratitude for a kind, loving companion brings tears to her eyes?  Am I the fretting mother who fears she has totally failed to prepare her children for life in the real world, knowing that she has trouble getting them to brush their teeth consistently, recognizing that training them to make their beds is a lost cause, and hoping against hope that they have learned how to work?  Or the proud woman whose heart swells when Tanah spends her Friday night with a lost soul, when Grace works tirelessly writing and directly a play for her grandfather’s Cub Scouts, when Miles snuggles with her at night, and when Chick smashes her in a bear hug?   There are so many me’s……  Positive, upbeat, confident, quiet, doubting, despairing…. What is the real me?  Who am I really?

 Who am I really?

 When the question in my mind morphed from “What is self” to“Who am I” the answer morphed from confusion to clarity.   
Who am I?  I am a child of God.

I am a child of God.

Simple?  Yes.  True?   YES.   This simple truth answered all the questions.    I am a child of God and, as His offspring, I am a learning, growing, changing, multi-faceted, dynamic, eternal being.  I am all the things I described and more.   I have eternal roots and an eternal destiny.   I have a mortal body and mortal challenges.   I struggle with sadness and learn to be happy.  
I fight fear and develop faith.  Doubt plagues me and trust sustains me.   I need help and I find hope.   I seek my Father and find His Son.  

I am a child of God……and I am not bored!!!


Love,
Teresa


3 Comments

    Author

    Teresa Hislop
    thislop@msn.com

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