Yes! So Blessed

Two weeks ago yesterday, I embarked on a journey I'd been anticipating--and often fearing--for over a year. I quit my very good job as a training developer and signed on for a 12-week substitute teaching assignment, teaching 9th- and 11th-grade English.

Words can't describe the nervousness I felt on that first day, but underneath all that I knew that God was with me. I knew that I could never be enough for these 80 children, but I felt a deep assurance that the Holy Spirit would equip me for this purpose that He has called me to.

One Face of Obamacare

If you're like most of us, you can't wrap your mind or heart around really big problems. Here's an example. Remember the earthquake in Haiti in 2010? It killed about 200,000 people and left 2 million homeless. At the time, I sent money to help deliver clean water to the earthquake victims, but honestly I wasn't terribly moved by the suffering of all of those faceless people. It was too overwhelming to shoulder all of that grief, and even though their lives would never be the same, my own life went on just as it always had.

I see something similar happening in America right now. In the coming months, 20 million Americans may soon be without health coverage, if efforts to repeal portions of the Affordable Care Act (a.k.a Obamacare) succeed.

Can you picture that? Twenty million men, women, and children with no health coverage?

Neither can I. How do you put a face on that many people?

Let me help you. Here is one person who will lose her healthcare if this legislation passes. Meet my sister Amy, who suffered a massive stroke in March of 2016. The stroke left her virtually paralyzed on her left side.

Amy four months after her stroke

The Cooking Fail That Wasn't

I had a great, productive day today. I woke up in good spirits and made excellent progress on my current e-Learning project. I was so engrossed in my work that I worked an extra hour without thinking about it.

And then, without warning, I abruptly crashed into a very foul mood. I was hungry and tired and very blue for no good reason. I wanted very much to go to bed, but it was only six and I was hungry.

I drug myself away from my desk and out to the garage to check the deep freeze for something edible. I've been way too busy lately with driving for Lyft (more on that later, but no promises) and studying up on the latest teaching technologies, so I haven't made time to go to the grocery store very often. Thus, I find myself eating whatever I can scrounge up, such as peanut butter and jelly (if I've had time to grind my sprouted wheat and make bread, as well as soak, dehydrate, roast, and grind the peanuts).

So you can imagine my triumph when I spotted a package of salmon I'd bought on sale and then forgotten all about. I literally raised a fist and said, "Yes!"

Thank You, and I Love You

When I posted an entry the other day about an upcoming breast biopsy, I prefaced it with a comment about possibly breaching the rules of etiquette. Some of you asked me why I thought that.

No, it wasn't because the story was about my breast. I was concerned that some people would think I should keep my "minor health worry" private because it would be inconsiderate to cause you worry when I didn't know yet whether there was a major health problem.

An Early Christmas Present for Me

After only one day, I got my biopsy results. When I realized it was the nurse from the radiology center and not my doctor, I knew it was good news.

There were no cancer cells. It is fibrocystic tissue, which is typical with my type of dense, lumpy breast tissue. The calcification (hardening) has increased over time, so they will do close monitoring. I go back in six months for another diagnostic mammogram.

But there is no cancer.

To quote the nurse, "Merry Christmas!"

Oh, thank you Jesus. Thank you to everyone for your love and prayers.

More Like a Screw Driver

I appreciate everyone's prayers and support in regards to my needle biopsy today. I had a bit of nerves in the morning, but by the time I got there I felt remarkably calm--and oddly detached as I took in all the details of this most bizarre experience.

A One Hundred Percent Chance

So I'm going to tell you something that I think might go against the rules of etiquette, though I don't know why that should be the case. If this is in poor taste or inconsiderate, please forgive me. I don't want to cause you concern, but I do need to share my heart with you. Here goes...

Tomorrow I go for a needle biopsy of an abnormality in my breast. When I was called back after a recent screening mammogram, I was only a little concerned. I'd been called back after my first one six years previously, and all had been well. Like many of the women on my mom's side of the family, I have very dense, lumpy breast tissue, so it's not uncommon to have problems with mammography.

Still, I was pretty nervous when I went on December 8 for my diagnostic bilateral (two-sided) mammogram. Everyone at the center was exceptionally kind, which gave me great comfort. After a very thorough, somewhat uncomfortable exam, the technician told me I needed to wait for the radiologist to review my images in case he might want more views.

As I waited, I sort of prayed with my whole being, not with my thoughts, but rather with a leaning in toward my Father. When I felt my palms getting sweaty, I thought, "Quiet me with your love. I trust you. I trust you."

A Hope Not Seen

Remember how afraid I was a few weeks ago about starting to substitute teach? I'm not even sure when it happened, but recently I realized that subbing has become a delight. Once or twice a week, I step into the unknown with that familiar flip of nerves that I felt in my belly every morning as a 7th-grade Reading teacher: What challenges will I face today? But the unease is tempered by an exhilarating sense of possibility: What children and teachers will I connect with today?

Probably the best thing to come out of subbing is the opportunity to observe other teachers when I have a planning period free. When it first occurred to me to use my free time this way, I hesitated to request it, but not one teacher has turned me down. They've graciously welcomed me into the most mundane of daily routines and even into their most challenging classes, either when nothing exciting was happening, or when too much excitement was happening.

What I've learned is that other teachers struggle. Other teachers are ordinary just like me. And despite all the stress and the challenges, they love their jobs! Better still, all their hard work is making a difference, because they are loving and being loved.

Like Ten Husbands

Do you ever make yourself laugh? I mean, really laugh out loud... when you're all by yourself? I did this morning, on a solo walk with Jesus. As I walked, I thought of the revelation God had given me on my last solo walk: that I don't have to be married to enjoy the forever love I've always craved.

In the background, I must have also been thinking of the chapters I'd recently read in 1 Samuel. The book opens with Samuel's mother Hannah mourning her barrenness. I've always loved these lines, in which her husband Elkanah clumsily tries to comfort her: "Hannah, why are you crying?... Why won't you eat? Why are you troubled? Am I not better to you than 10 sons?"

Until the Day I Die

On Saturday night, I came across a very moving video on Facebook. If you have 3 minutes and 29 seconds, I hope you will watch it: Man Sings to 93-Year-Old Dying Wife. Just make sure to have some Kleenex handy.

I watched it with tears streaming down my face. The woman is blind, and her husband is nearly deaf, but they can still communicate their love beautifully.

"You're my sweetheart," she says.

"I was your best lover..." he replies.

"Oh, I know it," she agrees.

When he starts singing, she murmurs, "Behave yourself."

After their granddaughter repeats her words, he laughs heartily. "I'm always good."

As I reflected on this example of the truest romance, I thought of my own grandparents, Verna and Paul. Now if Grandpa ever serenaded Grandma, no one ever told me about it, but their love was apparent in other ways. Example: When Grandpa had to go into the nursing home for care around the clock, Grandma visited him every day. Although he could no longer speak, his face lit up each time he saw his true love, and I'm told that on those rare days when she could not come, he was downcast.

My cousin Jolinda captured these beautiful pictures a few years back:

I love that last one of their aged, tender hands, their golden rings sparkling with the promise they kept to one another for over 70 years. I know from transcribing their autobiography that their marriage took them through times for "the worse" as well as for "the better." Through it all, their commitment held strong.

Guard the Door

In my last entry, I described my fears about taking the next step in my teaching journey: starting to substitute teach. After sharing the whole story with you, I ended up sleeping well and feeling well prepared for my first assignment, which turned out to be sixth-grade Reading.

After misplacing the rosters and finding them in the staff bathroom just before the bell rang, I recovered my composure, and the day got off to a fairly smooth start. Thankfully, my first period had a Special Ed aide who was able to show me not only how to turn on the document viewer but also what a document viewer is. Whew!

And then the fun began. I enjoyed doing a bit of teaching as I introduced the assignment on the prefix "post." Everything came back to me, and it felt like I'd never left the field. The kids were well engaged, and I was able to manage a few minor discipline issues using proximity; when someone started to get off task, I simply stood next to him and smiled kindly.

Mr. B. and I made a great team as we circulated among the groups, gave pointers, and answered questions. At the end of the period, he asked what subject I had taught before.

"Reading," I replied.

"I can tell," he said. I beamed.

Things got a little rougher in the afternoon. For one thing, my feet were screaming. During second period, the middle toes on both of my feet had twisted into charlie horses, and I'd had no choice but to walk on them for hours. Have you ever noticed how much harder it is to be cheerful and patient when your feet are killing you?