
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