Handle it

The man on the motorcycle

It was just after one of those summertime thunderstorms. You know, those late afternoon storms that seem to come out of nowhere and stick around just long enough to cool off the hot, sticky south Alabama air. I had just left my parents house with a belly full of grilled chicken, potato salad, and baked beans. And the sky was just dark enough to need headlights but still bright enough that you could make out what was going on around you.

I turned onto another in a series of county roads that I drive between my house and mama's, and I caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of my eye.  It was a motorcycle. Parked in a gravel pull-off on the side of the intersection. Naturally, because no one would just stop on the side of the road, I assumed that the rider must be having problems with his motorcycle. Until I looked closer. The rider was just propped, arms crossed, on his bike, and he was watching something on the distance very intently. I looked out into the field trying to see whatever this man saw, and then I realized exactly what he was watching. 

Like I said, it was nearing dark so I couldn't exactly make out what the man looked like, but I'd like to imagine him as one of those big, burly, tattooed bikers with a braided beard and long hair tied up in a bandana. Yep, that's what I'm going to say he looked like. Anyway, my eyes filled with tears when I finally figured out what this guy was looking at. 

It was the sunset. 

He pulled off on the side of the road just to sit there and enjoy one of God's most beautiful creations. One of the creations that most people usually never take a moment to really savor. And in that moment my heart was so full of admiration for this man that I don't know and will probably never meet. 

I don't know his story, but I don't need to to know that he's a man that has really figured out how to enjoy the little things. And I think that's exactly what our country needs right now. 

We, as a nation, need to learn how to sit and enjoy a sunset. I don't mean catch a glimpse of it and think "what a pretty sky" as you're driving down the road. I mean to really and purposefully stop what we're doing to watch the sun set. Not only that, we should all make a point to remember all the simple things that inspired awe in us as children. You know, like the way our toes squish in the mud. Or the way stars sparkle when you get out in the country. Or how soft a puppy's ear is and how plushy a kitten's belly can be. Have you ever watched a child enjoying a new food? They close their eyes and really enjoy it.

We take so much for granted as a nation and we just keep wanting more. 

Best medical care in the world? Give us free health insurance! 

Universities that people come from all over the world to attend? Give us free college educations! 

A country that people risk life and limb to get into? Let's ruin it by being fooled by carefully and intentionally orchestrated racism. 

Maybe, just maybe, if we stopped for a few moments to watch the sun set every now and then we would be able to see how good we really have it. 

Heavy Love

It's hard to love like Jesus does. He loves everyone. Every. Single. Person. And He all loves us all the same. He loves us so much that he died to save us from our own weak, sinful selfs. Think about that kind of love for a second, and tell me that you can love every single person on this earth that way. 

Love every single murderer, rapist, and pedophile that way. Jesus does. 

Love every single racist, radical Islamist, and Neo-Nazi that way. Jesus does. 

Love every single homosexual, heterosexual, Democrat, Republican, black person, brown person, white person that way. Jesus does. 

Love every single sinner on this planet that way. Jesus does. 

He loves us. All of us. And there is not a single string attached. All we have to do is accept Jesus Christ as our Lord and Savior, ask Him into our heart, and live our life walking closely with Him. 

That kind of Love can be heavy. 

I've watched it become so heavy that I can no longer tell who has that kind of Love in their heart and who doesn't. Even when I'm sitting inside a church. We shouldn't have to play a guessing game to tell who follows Christ and who doesn't. It should show with every word we utter and with every step and breath we take. 

I've watched while a country, who should be rallying around and comforting each other, break out into social media wars over gun rights and presidential candidates. Our job is to spread the Gospel, not anger. Get out there and do your duties. Love your fellow man, all of them, and show them the Love that changed your life so that it can bring them the same Peace it brought you. 

I've watched Christians assign weights to different sins and arrogantly decide that they are somehow better than others because their sin doesn't show quite as badly. Visible sins are not greater than invisible sin, and invisible sins are not invisible to God. They're all the same, and you'll never be able to love like Jesus if you can't see that.

I've watched finger pointing and read meaningless arguments over whether Christianity is more or less violent than Islam. We shouldn't have to argue it or prove it if we're showing it. And sadly, a lot of us are not showing Love. We're not showing anything. 

I've watched Christians spin a moment in which they should've been sharing the Gospel and spreading a message of Hope, Peace, and Love into a moment that's prime for arguing over the reasons why. It's not 'us against them,' it's 'us against the devil,' and we let the devil win every time we choose pride or fear over sharing the Love of Jesus. 

These attacks. These disasters. These horrible, terrible things that happen to our people, the American people, are not a surprise to God. Each and every one of them is opportunity to serve, love, and teach our fellow man. 

Get out there and do it. 

Dear Students: What I Really Want to Say But Can't

Dear students,

There are so many things that I've wanted to tell you all year but I just couldn't say. Whether the reason be legal, logical, personal, or whatever, I just couldn't tell you what was on my mind. 

Well, I've never been very good at keeping my mouth shut, so I am going to tell you everything I've wanted to say. Right here. Right now. 

#1 

There is a such thing as a stupid question, and you, my dear, just asked one. Close your mouth before you do any more damage. 

#2

If you're going to choose to be dumb, you need to at least be pretty...or funny...or really athletic. You're none of those things. Pick up the dadgum pencil and let's do this!

#3
I die a little inside when you do the thing that I, just seconds ago, told your classmate not to do. I think the energy drained from trying not to yell in these situations has aged me at least a decade.

#3
I do not fail you. You fail you. All I do is deliver the information and mark your assignments when you turn them in. It does not make me happy to mark answer after answer wrong on your tests. I feel like a failure each and every time that I have a student fail my class. And yes, I guess I could just 'bump you up' that few points every semester to get that grade up to passing, but then I really would be failing you. And I refuse to do that.

#4

High school has absolutely nothing to do with your ability to solve a quadratic equation. It's not really about learning the causes of the Civil War. And no, your knowledge of covalent bonds will not affect you in the "real world." What you're really supposed to be learning is how to do crap you don't want to do while working with the people that you don't necessarily want to work with. You're supposed to be learning how to think critically and problem solve. What you're really supposed to be learning is how to survive college and the workforce and hopefully one day be a productive citizen. Many of you are failing. Miserably. Congrats. Now change it. It's not too late; try when you want to quit, be kindness when your world stacks up against you, and be humble even when you feel like a superhero. 

#5

The teacher that snapped on you that day that you didn't bring anything to class may have just found out that her sister has to start chemo tomorrow. That teacher that was less than patient that day that you just couldn't get MAC factoring may have just gotten a picture text from her husband of the headstone she recently had to design for her baby. Your teachers are only human. We have bad moods, we have bad days, and we sometimes make poor decisions. Give us a break every now and then. We both know your teachers have given you the benefit of the doubt more times than any of us could count. 

#6

Contrary to what you think that office referral, Saturday school assignment, or parent phone call may mean, I really do care about you. The only reason I discipline you is because I care about you. Trust me, it would be a whole lot easier if I just ignored that bad behavior or just 'let you fail.' (See #3) There may be times when I don't particularly like you, but I always, always care about you. The moment you stepped foot into my room, I worked to help you grow just like you were my child. Sometimes that growth requires some hard lessons, like summer school. Sometimes that growth required an abundance of grace, like the day you couldn't gather your emotions so I let you retake the test when you were feeling better. Every decision I made concerning you came with the subconscious thought, "What if he/she were my child? How would I want this handled?"

#7

This one is a biggie. This one was on the tip of my tongue every day, every time I saw your cuts, your tears, or your silent (and sometimes not so silent) cries for help. But I could never say it because...well, because we live in a broken world that has decided that your teachers can never, ever talk to you about this...

Jesus loves you. 

And even though your world and heart may be broken, in Him you will find only Peace. I desperately hope you find Him. Sadly, I can't lead you to Jesus with words, but I hope you witnessed His Love through me as you sat in my classroom.

Love,
Mrs. Rich

The Blank Basket: It'll Still Hold Eggs

I had a familiar feeling come over me yesterday while driving to my sister's house. As I crossed the 'four-lane' (as we southerners like to call it), I suddenly remembered that I had forgotten to get J's Easter basket monogrammed like I had totally planned to for weeks. I even bought his basket in February so that I could take it to my monogrammer in plenty of time for Easter. In the middle of my pity party for myself and my forgetful brain, I had another startling realization -- I forgot to get Jasper an Easter outfit, too! I had even had whole conversations with coworkers and friends about Easter outfits for our children. After this realization, I had an avalanche of unchecked To-Do's flooding my brain, and I got very overwhelmed with life.

When I finally got to my sister's house, she mentioned that she'd be going shopping later that day and asked if I needed anything. I asked her to pretty please pick up something for J to wear to church, and we began a conversation about all of the stuff that I forgot to take care of for Easter. I told her in my best whiny, poor me voice that (gasp!) I forgot to get Jasper's basket monogrammed. In a way that only she can do, she looked at me with what I can only describe as "loving disgust" and told me in no uncertain terms that I was being ridiculous. She said, "But guess what?! It'll still hold eggs."

I laughed in response and went on my way, but her comment started me thinking. Okay, so yes, between raising a little boy, building a house, nurturing a marriage, rocking my full-time career as well as my new part-time job, and trying my best to walk with the Lord every day, I guess that I forgot to do and buy all of the 'stuff' that I've been brainwashed to think I need to have for Easter. But does any of it matter? Yes, those adorable knee socks and a darling little heirloom Easter basket would make for some precious pictures, but does it really matter? No.

Do you know what does matter? The fact that I asked my two-year-old if he knew why we were going to church this morning, and he responded, "Jesus!" No, he doesn't yet understand that Jesus died for our sins; he doesn't yet understand that he died and on the third day arose from the dead; and he doesn't yet understand that Jesus' resurrection is the cornerstone of Christianity...but he will. And that's what really matters. 

So, yeah, I'm the mama who picked her child's Easter basket goodies at the very last minute. I'm the mama who, because of a very busy schedule and slightly poor planning, had to stay up late to get Easter goodies ready. We're the family walking in to church ten minutes late because we had to turn around twice for forgotten things. We're the family surreptitiously pulling tags off of new clothes in the middle of a sermon because we didn't buy said clothes until the last minute and are always so rushed on Sunday mornings that we forgot to pull the tags off. I'm the mama who is just as likely to forgot the basket at home and force her son to hunt eggs with a grocery bag. 

But we're also a family that is overwhelmingly thankful that God hold us to a standard of Grace. And we will do our best to make sure that our son understands that Easter is less about your Sunday best and hunting eggs and more about a celebration of God's Unending Love and Amazing Grace.

By the way, we did hunt eggs using that blank Easter basket, and my sister was right...it did still hold eggs! 

An Open Letter to The Alabama Politicians Who Are Ruining Education

Dear Mr. Politician,

I can't remember a time that I did not want to be a teacher; all of that changed today.

Today I read an article explaining that Alabama teachers can expect their long awaited and much deserved raise in the next year or so, BUT they have some things that they are going to have to give up. Ha! Go figure. We teachers are used to this by now, but I would be lying if I said that this doesn't feel like a slap in the face. You're dangling the proverbial carrot in front of our faces, but I, for one, am not going to take this lying down.

I love my students, and I do not teach for the income. But, I do not enjoy feeling undervalued and I downright hate the way this implies that teachers as a whole are not doing their jobs. The problem with education is NOT too little accountability on teachers; the problem is too little accountability on the students and parents.We do not pay dentists based on cavities, we do not pay preachers based on saved souls, and we do not pay politicians based on approval ratings. Why does it make sense to you that we pay teachers based on approval ratings from students, test scores, and unannounced observations?

There are many variables that affect my students' performance in my class, and there is no way that I can control them all. If you want to fix problems in education, let's start in the home. Let's make sure that every student that walks in my room every day has a parent at home that made sure they left their home with a full stomach and the knowledge that someone loves them. Or at the very least, let's have a parent or guardian at home that makes sure that the student actually gets to school. Move accountability for attendance from the school to the parents and actually prosecute for truancy. When the students goes home at the end of the day, let's make sure that their parents or guardians ensure that they do their homework and talk to them about both the academic and social aspects of their school day. Let's let the responsibility for parent-teacher contact rest on the parent. If they need to know what is going on at school with their child, have them call on their free time rather than expect the teachers to make time in their already busy school day to call parents. That's impossible you say? Well I agree, but so is trying to improve education by making educators hate the very job they are called to do.

Let's allow the administration to actually, really punish the kids who do not behave according to the code of conduct. I can't tell you how many times I've had a special education student act horribly in class, violating LRE laws for every regular education student in the room, and my administrator's 'hands were tied' because the kid was receiving special education services. I love special education, but your laws are hurting many of the students that our special education teachers are trying to help. While we're on the topic of special education, let me just add that when I have a student that can't read or write come to my high school classroom, I hate what you've done with education so badly that I almost cannot participate in the charade anymore. This child does not need more legislation that tell us, him, and his parents that he cannot be 'left behind' and that he will 'progress with his regular education counterparts.' This child needs to be taught how to read, not how to solve a quadratic equation. All this talk about keeping kids from falling through the cracks, and here you are pushing them through. Mr. Politician, it is time to stop.

Let's remove graduation ratings and standardized test scores if you're not actually going to use them for student accountability. Sometimes students need to fail, and you need to trust the teachers when the students do fail. I love and care for each student that walks the halls of my school, but sometimes students need a little tough love. I meet each of my students halfway, and I believe with my whole heart and very well-educated brain that we are only hurting every student that we pass because we don't have the 'documentation' to fail them. I bend over backwards to help and teach students every single day, and I will not sit aside and let any politician imply that I do not already do enough for my students.

So, no, Mr. Politician. You've got it wrong. Teachers are not the problem with education, and YOU are NOT the solution. You are never going to fix education by creating more legislation; the only way to fix it is to leave the solution up to us, the very capable, hard working, well and properly educated teachers. If you keep pushing your agenda, I can promise you that the only thing you are going to accomplish is pushing good, loving, talented teachers into other professions and leaving our students to flounder.

Very Sincerely,
An Alabama Educator

Building with G

Since the new year is...well, new, I have been thinking about all of the blessings that we hope God will rain down on us in the coming year. The most notable of these is the fact that we've been blessed with the opportunity to build our forever home! 

I have been looking forward to building my dream home with the man of my dreams since I was a little girl, and I am so excited that we have finally made it to that point in life. Since we married, I have been slightly obsessed over the building process. My poor hubs has had to listen to my plans for our future home every. single. day. for the past three or four years. Lucky for me, he's a trooper, and he listened to me intently just like we were breaking ground in the next few days. He was never as focused on this one dream as me, but I've finally brought him over to my side. He announced very haphazardly on Christmas Eve that we'd be celebrating Christmas next year in our newly built house. 

Because I have focused nearly all of my "spare time" (I'm a teacher. Spare time. Ha!) on the house of my dreams and also because my husband can be likened to a freight train when he has a goal, the ball started rolling pretty quickly. Within a week, we were approved and had our house plans in our hands and the hands of almost all of the appropriate people. 

We have been in three different building supply stores, each at least two times, this weekend. Side note: Home Depot has BY FAR the most helpful people. We went into two different Lowe's stores, and no one ever offered to help us. We have books about cabinetry, books about flooring, books about countertops, books about bathrooms. There are so, so, so many decisions to make. I thought I knew what I wanted until I saw how many options I had. Add Pinterest to all of those tangible options, and I start to lose my mind. 

This home will be our forever home; we will be a growing family, a family with teenagers, empty nesters, and retirees in this home. It's impossible to plan for all of that. I had imagined that building a house would include making a lot of decisions, but I never knew there were this many options for everything. So far, the only decision we've actually made is what house we're building and where we're going to build it. Lord, help us! 

Oh yeah, I've also decided that I really need Joanna Gaines to come make all of my other decisions for me. That would help a lot!