We Are So Fragile

He woke up today just like every other school day. He got dressed, ate breakfast, argued with his sister, and probably listened to his mom rush him because they were running a little late. His mom was attending a parent conference before school to go over his test scores and he had to be there with her to hear what was being said. He grabbed his poster for the book report he had to give today and they were out the door. The weather was dreary and it had begun to rain. As they pulled into the school parking lot, all he could think of was getting this day over with so the weekend could begin. Nothing special was planned but at least he wouldn't be at school. They hurriedly walked into the school library to sit down with the counselor and talk about what he could do to perform better on the upcoming standardized tests. "I will be glad when all this is over with; I am so tired of hearing about testing," he thought. He listened respectfully, and somewhat humbly, as his mom reminded him that he lives a life of privilege; she does not require him to work and he is allowed to participate in any extracurricular activity he desires, namely, baseball. All she asks in return is that he give his best effort in school. That shouldn't be asking too much but how can he concentrate on school and academics when all he wants to do is play ball? He promised to give it his best and asked his mom to once again pronounce the title of the book he would be presenting in class shortly. "Roberto Clemente, Roberto Clemente." He repeated it a couple of times to help him remember. The parent conference ended, he hugged his mom, and went on to class.

The next couple of hours went on as expected: math intervention, resource class, PE, lunch. He had no idea that this was the last "normal" moment of his life. The intercom came on in the classroom and unexpectedly, they called for him to come to the office to check out. In confusion, he gathered his books and backpack and headed down the hall and down stairs. "What is Nanna doing here?" he wondered as he opened the office door. As he walked in, she leaned down and hugged him tight; she was acting a little weird and her eyes looked swollen. "Why is everyone looking at me like that?"

As they walked out of the school building, he knew something was wrong. In less than an hour, his 10 year old life would be turned upside down and changed forever. Soon he would hear the story about the car accident his mom had been involved in this morning on her way to another meeting. Nanna was taking him to say goodbye to his mother.



The "he" in my story is named Fred. He is a 4th grader at my school and he makes me smile, even when he is being defiant or lazy. He is just one of those kids that leave you no other choice but to like him. I got to tell his mom that this morning during our conference. On her way back to work, as she was merging onto the interstate, she hydroplaned across all lanes, across the median, and into oncoming traffic. She was brain dead upon arrival at the hospital. I have thought about this from Fred's perspective most of the day and my heart absolutely breaks for him. These are the times when I hate my job. Fred has an older sister who is a Senior, and a younger sister who is 3 1/2. Please pray for the Stewart family.

The Good Confession

About 4-5 years ago, there was a student at my school who had a pretty big temper/rage problem. He did not like authority AT ALL but, for some reason, he and I had a good rapport. One day I got a call from the office that I was needed in one of the 5th grade classrooms. When I got upstairs, I found an empty classroom except for JT, who was in one of his rages. He was so angry that the teacher felt she needed to evacuate the room for the safety of the other students. I walked into the room with the other counselor, closed the door and just watched him as he ranted furiously around the room, growling, screaming, and slamming his fists on tables and into the walls. We tried talking to him to calm him down but it did not work. Finally, I just grabbed JT from behind and held on with all I had in me. He struggled against me and screamed for a couple of minutes, but soon, he calmed down and we were able to walk down to the office without another episode. I have no idea what set him off but if I had to guess, it probably involved being asked to do something he didn't think was fair or he got caught doing something he shouldn't have been doing.

As I was praying for a friend this morning, this very vivid memory came flooding back to me, along with the words of Andrew Peterson's "The Good Confession." I have listened to this over and over recently and here is the part that sticks with me:

All I know is that I was blind but now I see that though I kick and scream, Love is leading me. And every step of the way his grace is making me; with every breath I breathe, he is saving me. And I believe.

My prayer for my friend, and for myself, is that our Father, who loves us greatly, would lead us to find our joy and delight in Him alone. Even though we kick and scream and struggle against your arms folded around us, I pray that Your grace would lead us to know your love and trust that You are good. Hosanna, save us from ourselves!

I Am Not That Old

About two years ago, while doing my taxes, I tried to e-file but was denied. The birth year that I entered into the tax return program did not match the year on file with the Social Security Administration. According to the SSA, I am a year older than my birth certificate says. Before you ask, I have no idea how this happened. This is not really a big deal right now except for the the fact that I can not e-file and somewhere, someone thinks I am a year older than I really am. I would, however, like to go ahead and get this straightened out.

I have tried to fix is online - not possible. I have tried filling out the appropriate forms and mailing in the needed documentation - not allowable. Today I tried going by the actual building where the SSA personnel work, but they were CLOSED!!! Do you know what their business hours are? 8:30 - 3:30. Apparently, if you are working, you have no need for the SSA offices, therefore, they are only open during usual work hours. So now, I will have to take at least a 1/2 day off or beg my boss to let me leave work early to get this taken care of.

Can you tell I was really irritated by this? I think I am over it now.

Another Church Sign

"If God had a wallet, your picture would be in it."

I thought it was kinda sweet.

Thought-Provoking

My pastor, Bob Flayhart, has a new post to his blog which I found very interesting and worth thinking through.