Walk to End Breast Cancer

Breast Cancer. 

Nasty stuff. Scary stuff. 

I have been blessed that the list of women I know who have been affected by this disease is short. And every one of those women survived. But I know as I get older and the years blur together and stretch out that my list will grow. And I know that there will come a day when my list will not boast a 100% survival rate. 

This November I will be taking part in the Susan G. Komen 3-Day walk for the cure. This isn't the first time I've participated in a Susan G. Komen event, but it is the first time I will be personally and heavily invested in it. By registering for the walk, I have been tasked with raising $2,300.00. It's a lot money to me. It's not something I've got lying around the house, under a matress or in a piggy bank. It makes me nervous thinking about how I will raise the funds, and I know I will have to put my faith in God that He already knows how...and then I'll just have to rest in that knowledge. 

If you haven't heard of this program before, I invite you to take a look. I invite you to support me as I raise the necessary funding that will allow me to participate in this event. I invite you to walk, too. And if you're not sure why it matters or why I walk, I invite you to watch the following:

It Begins!

I am a mother of two beautiful young ladies. It is truly a blessing to call these two sweet young ladies my daughters. And as their mother, I want to savor every moment. I want to take pictures of everything. ...And I have...it's why I currently have no space on my iPhone and two digital cameras. ..I'm afraid that even though I've downloaded all the images, if I delete them, every hard drive they exist on will suddenly melt into oblivion. ...I should probably go buy a new digital camera. ...Or print the pictures, but whatever.

So anyway, I want to remember everything, and this what is about to follow is a story that I do not want to forget. Ever. And it's one that I find so freakin' adorable, I also wholeheartedly believe it is my duty as a human being to share this story with every person I possibly can. ...It's just that sweet!

So Thursday night my husband had a meeting and wasn't home. Just me and the girls. My oldest, B, is four, and my youngest, L, is 8 months. She's just become independently mobile and is extremely proud of this fact. ...I am regretting ever wishing her mobile. I have seriously got to invest in some baby gates pronto. (B never really got into anything as a baby (REALLY!), so we never really needed to buy them with her.) At any rate, this new found independence and desire to go explore and play has been read by my older daughter as, "Yes! Finally! Someone to PLAY with!!!"

It was in this mindset that B insisted that I leave the room so she and L could play alone. Because my daughter is actually fairly responsible and attentive for a four year old, I obliged her, and ducked into my bedroom not far away, with the door open. A few minutes to myself? Sweet! I sat in there listening, because truthfully, I didn't really have anything to do, I just wanted to give B some time with her sister.

Then it happens. 

L:  (starts crying)

B:  (borderline shouting) "I'm SORRY! I didn't MEAN to! Stop crying! Stop Crying! I didn't mean to!" (starts to cry)

quiet...and crying....

L:  (still crying)

B:  (now crying, mumbles something incomprehensible) then...."You hurt my FEELINGS, L***!!" (more crying)

I sit on the edge of my bed, half laughing, wondering what an 8 month old could have POSSIBLY done to hurt the feelings of a four year old. Finally, I walk out to the living room to assess the damage. I see, in one corner, L, sitting and crying. About 10 feet away, I see B, lying prone on the floor, her face buried in a pillow, sobbing. I choke back my laughter; B is very sensitive to being "laughed" at. Walking over to B, I scoop her up. 

Me:  "B, what's wrong?"

L:  "L*** wouldn't play with me!"

Holding her in my arms, I try to comfort her and explain that she's just a baby; she doesn't know better. While I'm holding her, L starts to feel left out and is crying the most cute, adorable, pathetic cry ever. She begins crawling over to me, crying. When she gets over to me, I scoop her up, too. Two crying girls in my arms. 

Anyway, my description doesn't do the situation justice. But it was about the cutest, most pathetic, most adorable little scene ever, and I'm so glad that B is so interested in spending time with her younger sister. I hope that is a desire that lasts the rest of her life. ...And I hope that L reciprocates this, too. On the other hand, it made me extremely nervous for what kind of scenes await me in their adolescence if this is what I'm dealing with now, all before either child has entered kindergarten! lol Don't know. ...We shall see... :)

Secondhand Blessings

So driving to work this morning, the thought of "secondhand blessings" crossed my mind. ...Probably a song I was listening to on the radio, who knows. There isn't always a rhyme or reason as to why some thoughts occur to me when they do, but I found this one to be profound, and I wanted to spend some time on it. And since I haven't blogged in so long, my blog is probably starting to develop digital cobwebs, I thought I'd take my thoughts to the web.

I started thinking (and again, how I got on this train of thought is beyond me!) about all of the blessings in my life, and many of them, if not most of them, were not blessings I had expected, asked for, or wanted.

I teach 8th grade ELA at Sam Rayburn. I love my job. I love almost everything about it. Having to take what some of the kids throw out (not literally!) and not be able to dish it out can be very humbling. But, what kind of professional, role model, or person would I be if I lashed back? I'm not really a "fight fire with fire" kinda girl, especially not in this scenario. But for the most part, I adore what I do.

But I didn't think I'd be here. Sure. I've wanted to teach since I was in the first grade. True story. Ask my dad. He remembers. I remember. I wanted to write on the chalkboard. You'll be happy to know that my reasons have changed over the years. I mean, really, they had to. Chalkboards are so last decade! It's all about the dry erase boards and SMART boards now! Gahh! Duhh!  Okay, so my reasons actually have changed well beyond what medium I use to display information that, apparently, is only read by me anyway! ...Given that my students always ask me what we're doing each day, despite the fact that the daily objectives and agenda are written on the board, in the same spot, in the same manner, every day of the school year. ...Oh, to be a middle schooler. ;-)

Anyway, I digress. So I wanted to teach littles. Not Kinder-little. I don't have that in me. That's not my "GIFT". No, no.  But 3rd, 4th, 5th grade, Yeahhh! For each of my college observation credits, I was placed in a middle school classroom, and well, it stuck. Stuck hard, too, because six years later, I'm still here, pounding the rock, day after day, listening to middle school drama the kids don't think I can hear.

Secondhand Blessing. Who knew I'd end up LOVING middle school?! Apparently God did, thus His insistence that I not be placed on an elementary campus during my college observations. ..And I tried. Actually I was supposed to be placed in a 4th grade class for my student teaching. But, when God says no, well, you can argue, but no is no. It is what it is. Que sera, sera.

Secondhand Blessing....I thought I'd be hired at Jane Long, the school I student taught at. It was an amazing bunch of teachers. The kids were great. The staff was great. I had great recommendations from my cooperating teacher. There were at least two positions, I think, opening on the team that I was actually student teaching on. Didn't happen. I was heartbroken. Instead, Sam Rayburn scooped me up, but not before God plopped me right down in their laps. Through word of mouth, I was recommended for a long-term sub position. The first day I showed up, the principal at the time, Mr. Ellis, walked me to the choir room, feeding my ego with all these great things he'd heard about me and promised he wanted me on his campus if a spot became available. Do you have ANY idea what it does to your little tiny Teacher Ego when a principal tells you that he wants you at his campus?! He retired before he had the chance to hire me, but his replacement, Mr. Hord, did.

And now here I am. Secondhand Blessing. Surrounded by a group of people who couldn't love these kids more than if they were their own children. And that's saying a lot, because some of our kiddos have some rough edges. And they've seen more in their young lives than I have in my 31 years. These kids are tough. But they're so sweet. And they just wanna be loved. And they need to be. They don't always tell you that with their words...or even their actions...but it's still true.

Secondhand Blessing....Really? I graduated in 2006, and I'm still stuck here in Aggieland?! The plan was to get out! Go back home to Dallas. Be near family. Teach at a school I went to. Didn't happen. It was heartbreaking. And I still miss Dallas. And I want to be there so badly. But when I look, really look, at what's around me, I know God has me exactly where He wants me. And I'm where I need to be. A wonderful job. Amazing co-workers, who are more than just people I work with; they're my family. An incredible church that lives to be the hands and feet of God and serve without judging, which is, I believe, a cornerstone of Christianity. Many of the leaders in the church have very colored pasts, and their testimonies are incredible and speak to the love, mercy, and forgiveness of our Heavenly Father.

I could go on for pages listing and describing the secondhand blessings in my life. ..That reallly aren't secondhand blessings at all. They are rich blessings, planned by God, to bestow upon His children, who He loves with every fiber of His being. Who He sent his only son for. Who he died for. My blessings aren't secondhand. They are purposely chosen just for me.

Sometimes my daughter gets upset. So upset when she doesn't get what she thinks she wants. And I get so sad, because when she acts out and misbehaves as a result of her feelings, she needs to be disciplined in love, when what I have planned for her is SO much better than the little things she thought she wanted. I want so badly to give her those blessings. Because even though she doesn't think she's getting top notch, the blessings I have for my daughter are not secondhand. But special. And sweet. And chosen just for her. Chosen for her the way our Father in Heaven chooses them for us.

Sometimes "no" isn't "no". Sometimes "no" is, "There's something so much better for you. Wait. Be patient. I love."

I am so grateful for the "secondhand blessings" in my life. My life has been enriched more than I could have ever dreamed on my own. ...For who am I to tell God what is best for me? ...I mean, really, have we watched the replay/blooper reel of my life?! ...Like I make the best decisions out there! Yeah... :)