This morning my friend Will posted his status as this:
...R. Foster: "...who we are - not who we want to be - is the only offering we have to give." So thankful God wants us more than our effort.
As I sat there trotting through announcements, emails, status updates, etc. this gave me pause. I sat for a moment and pondered it. I am still pondering it. I keep stopping and re-reading it.
I have decided to use a little trick from my 11th grade AP English teacher, Pat Sperry, with a twist. I am going to somewhat free write my questions and thoughts. Please feel free to converse. How does Will's statement strike you in your heart? Bear with the ramble as I am not going to proofread unless those little red squiggly lines show up.
Who am I and what does He want with me? What is my purpose and am I just grooving along to my own song not paying attention? Or am I so focused on this purpose that I am making it into something it is not? Can we get too caught up into becoming someone we are not and also not meant to be? If I am trying to become someone else (a better person) then is it good or bad? How do I know when it becomes a bad thing and no longer serves the purpose of improvement? What if I do not change and stay the whiney, broken, judgmental, thoughtless, drama queen that I am? Is that still good enough for Him? Well thank heavens it is- not that I want to admit it is ok- because then maybe I will give myself permission to quit trying and stagnate. Then again, there are so many times in my life I feel like I am already stagnant and do not know how to fix it. Does God use those stagnant times to create something beautiful too? I sure hope so. Last night Graham, our youngest twin, told me that he thought God created wheat on accident since it makes some of his friends very very sick if they eat it in anything. I told him God did not create ANYTHING on accident but then had no answer as to why He would make something that could make so many people sick. Here he is at 10 asking questions of faith that are timeless and I sit asking different ones that are no less timeless but still have no answer to either.
I want to be a peacemaker. I want to avoid chaos and drama and confrontation, yet my life teems with it. Am I adding to it by picking this recent vote to pieces and asking so many questions? Am I avoiding it by hiding in my house as a student, not singing in the choir under the excuse it is too late a start time? Are those real distractions that are valid or my subconscious attempt to subvert God's will in my life?
Am I even helping those who come to me with questions or a needed conversation to bounce ideas around while they figure out faith and relationships and God?
Am I really meant to go into ministry? How can I ask that when I know I am- but know I am asking only because I am afraid that I will not be "enough" for it or Him.
And then along comes Will's status. I cannot offer God what I will be when I am all educated up and ordained... that is an egg that is not hatched. Instead I can only offer him who I am today. All my faults, weaknesses, fears and doubts are a part of that person right here and now and no matter what I think I am or am not worthy of is pointless- because he can use me just like this. Thank heavens, as I sit here with unbrushed hair and coffee breath, that even if I do not meet what I think is the social standard, I am still meeting his by simply trying to come to Him... that He will more than meet me half way- He will pick me up and carry me.
I need to stop trying so hard to become that future pastor, to become that person who will counsel others and instead focus on just coming to Him- abiding in Him. If that means I need to step up now to do things then I need to get off my hidden introverted duff and do it. And if it means I need to stay home and focus on Him in some weird type of extended sabbatical then that is what I need to do as well.
Now... if only He would tell me which to do right now?
*smile*
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Thursday, May 21, 2009
track tragedy- unnoticed and forgotten
Dear Editor, Principal, Coach and Reader, May 21, 2009
Today a tragedy occurred at the track meet in Ossining. This tragedy will not make the evening news in fact it will be lucky to make the editors column and all the more is the pity. Today a young man thought he was unseen. We look at all that is happening in society noticing events like the 10 year mark of Columbine and wonder how kids get to that point. I can tell you how: they believe they are unseen.
This young man ran one of the longer races at the meet. He fell behind fairly quickly and stayed behind, far behind. Did he stop? No. Did he slow down? No. He kept running- he worked until he finished. When he crossed that finish line, his coach stopped his watch and walked away. This child cooled down, waiting for his timer to come up to him and write his time on his card… and no one came. He walked around some, looking at coaches and adults- anyone who might have noticed that he FINISHED the race. No one came. No one saw. Tears began to roll down his cheeks, this young man on the verge of adult, trying not to cry, struggled, choking back the tears and kept looking and searching faces. Only when I came running to him did someone start asking and paying attention. He was ready to walk off the field, believing that he was so far behind no one had bothered to stay and see him finish, that his time mattered so little that he was forgotten. Forgotten.
Yes, he was timed and yes, at least 2 of us watched him finish, but he was heart-broken. He busted hump, kept on going, and kept on trying in front of a lot of people. He could have stopped. He could have given up. He didn’t. His parents raised a finisher. Someone should have cheered him for crossing that finish line. He should have been patted on the back for holding his head up in moments of adversity. He should have been celebrated for holding to an age old belief that it is not where you finish, but the fact that you do finish. But no one celebrated him and no one cheered him.
His courage to walk up to his coach and ask, “did you get my time coach?” is on the level of David and Goliath. In all of this, he overcame fear and asked for his time, knowing there was a chance that there was none. He kept going and he did not stop- no matter what. I don’t think I would have had that courage at that point.
After leaving his coach I caught up with him and he turned to me, silent tears still streamed down his cheeks. I will never forget that face. The cheeks of a child wet with sweat from effort and tears of unspoken sadness. The eyes of an innocent who felt the sting of being invisible- I believe for the first time. I do not know his name but he is a hero in my book today. What I said to him is not important and I am not saying I am a perfect mother; I fail to notice my own children at times. However, we need to start taking the time to notice the ones who work ten times as hard as the winners to even finish. We need to celebrate the everyday person who still puts in the effort and finishes- mostly unnoticed. Please, notice someone today and if you read this and you know this is your son, hug him. Then tell him that blonde lady who spoke to him will never forget that he kept going, that I saw him finish, that he is not invisible, and that he is a hero to me.
Julie Kelly
Proud mom of 4 Croton-Harmon students
Today a tragedy occurred at the track meet in Ossining. This tragedy will not make the evening news in fact it will be lucky to make the editors column and all the more is the pity. Today a young man thought he was unseen. We look at all that is happening in society noticing events like the 10 year mark of Columbine and wonder how kids get to that point. I can tell you how: they believe they are unseen.
This young man ran one of the longer races at the meet. He fell behind fairly quickly and stayed behind, far behind. Did he stop? No. Did he slow down? No. He kept running- he worked until he finished. When he crossed that finish line, his coach stopped his watch and walked away. This child cooled down, waiting for his timer to come up to him and write his time on his card… and no one came. He walked around some, looking at coaches and adults- anyone who might have noticed that he FINISHED the race. No one came. No one saw. Tears began to roll down his cheeks, this young man on the verge of adult, trying not to cry, struggled, choking back the tears and kept looking and searching faces. Only when I came running to him did someone start asking and paying attention. He was ready to walk off the field, believing that he was so far behind no one had bothered to stay and see him finish, that his time mattered so little that he was forgotten. Forgotten.
Yes, he was timed and yes, at least 2 of us watched him finish, but he was heart-broken. He busted hump, kept on going, and kept on trying in front of a lot of people. He could have stopped. He could have given up. He didn’t. His parents raised a finisher. Someone should have cheered him for crossing that finish line. He should have been patted on the back for holding his head up in moments of adversity. He should have been celebrated for holding to an age old belief that it is not where you finish, but the fact that you do finish. But no one celebrated him and no one cheered him.
His courage to walk up to his coach and ask, “did you get my time coach?” is on the level of David and Goliath. In all of this, he overcame fear and asked for his time, knowing there was a chance that there was none. He kept going and he did not stop- no matter what. I don’t think I would have had that courage at that point.
After leaving his coach I caught up with him and he turned to me, silent tears still streamed down his cheeks. I will never forget that face. The cheeks of a child wet with sweat from effort and tears of unspoken sadness. The eyes of an innocent who felt the sting of being invisible- I believe for the first time. I do not know his name but he is a hero in my book today. What I said to him is not important and I am not saying I am a perfect mother; I fail to notice my own children at times. However, we need to start taking the time to notice the ones who work ten times as hard as the winners to even finish. We need to celebrate the everyday person who still puts in the effort and finishes- mostly unnoticed. Please, notice someone today and if you read this and you know this is your son, hug him. Then tell him that blonde lady who spoke to him will never forget that he kept going, that I saw him finish, that he is not invisible, and that he is a hero to me.
Julie Kelly
Proud mom of 4 Croton-Harmon students
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
when is it too much? (tiger mom rant)
Question of the millenia....
When do we as mom's cross the line into neurosis over our children and their health?
When am I going too far by starting to push people to DO SOMETHING for God's sake and my daughters????
How do we make them understand that the point we are at is not one that has been lacking in patience to maintain?
When do we know it is okay to jump on someone's desk, to call a commander, a hospital commander, a post commander... anyone who can do SOMETHING to make SOMEONE move to do even the minimum necessary?
When is it worth it to embarrass our children and risk our husband getting a call to tell him to rein in his wife?
When do I stop waiting and being polite, waiting for calls to be returned, asking nicely for yet ANOTHER call to be returned? When do I file complaints and know they are worthy and not me just being a neurotic high strung mom?
And while I am at it, since when did bothering to return a business call become common medical practice? When did it become okay for mental health SPECIALISTS to IGNORE a call for information and at least a direction to head in? When did it become normal for medical persons to lie, to not bother, or to treat a potential client with disrespect and flat out rude behavior for us simply asking a question?
Since when did telling someone their information is listed incorrectly become offensive?
I know I am high strung... I get that. I know I can really make a big emphasis on something only to later understand it was not quite what I thought... I know I tend to be dramatic.... I get that. But does that mean that I have a different standard for raising a fuss? Does that mean I do not get to raise a fuss at all? How is it I don't know when to be that person at the right time for my family?
I may be a neurotic mom. I may be a strong personality to the point of overwhelming others.... but I want to know when it is okay to let myself me just that... strong. And isn't there a time in everyone's lives that they wished their mom had been a little more neurotic about something in their defense or for their care?
I finally had it today. I am tired of leaving yet another message to have yet another far less than professional medical specialist not bother to call me back- even to say No. And since I have hit the WALL on this I know now I am at risk of offending or alienating someone who may actually be useful and helpful on the "new" path I am taking to get what my girl needs.
Still... when is too much???
When do we as mom's cross the line into neurosis over our children and their health?
When am I going too far by starting to push people to DO SOMETHING for God's sake and my daughters????
How do we make them understand that the point we are at is not one that has been lacking in patience to maintain?
When do we know it is okay to jump on someone's desk, to call a commander, a hospital commander, a post commander... anyone who can do SOMETHING to make SOMEONE move to do even the minimum necessary?
When is it worth it to embarrass our children and risk our husband getting a call to tell him to rein in his wife?
When do I stop waiting and being polite, waiting for calls to be returned, asking nicely for yet ANOTHER call to be returned? When do I file complaints and know they are worthy and not me just being a neurotic high strung mom?
And while I am at it, since when did bothering to return a business call become common medical practice? When did it become okay for mental health SPECIALISTS to IGNORE a call for information and at least a direction to head in? When did it become normal for medical persons to lie, to not bother, or to treat a potential client with disrespect and flat out rude behavior for us simply asking a question?
Since when did telling someone their information is listed incorrectly become offensive?
I know I am high strung... I get that. I know I can really make a big emphasis on something only to later understand it was not quite what I thought... I know I tend to be dramatic.... I get that. But does that mean that I have a different standard for raising a fuss? Does that mean I do not get to raise a fuss at all? How is it I don't know when to be that person at the right time for my family?
I may be a neurotic mom. I may be a strong personality to the point of overwhelming others.... but I want to know when it is okay to let myself me just that... strong. And isn't there a time in everyone's lives that they wished their mom had been a little more neurotic about something in their defense or for their care?
I finally had it today. I am tired of leaving yet another message to have yet another far less than professional medical specialist not bother to call me back- even to say No. And since I have hit the WALL on this I know now I am at risk of offending or alienating someone who may actually be useful and helpful on the "new" path I am taking to get what my girl needs.
Still... when is too much???
Friday, December 19, 2008
how stupid can I get? (an adventure story!)
The day was lovely- cold and foggy with the sun peeking through. The river and streams misty with the change in temperature and the ice beginning to form on the water. The leaves were crisp and I was inspired! I ran home yesterday to get the camera and take some pictures of nature... and that is where the trouble began.
I had been told by the school bus driver that Batten Road is a great view of the dam once the leaves are off the trees. So I went. It sure is! Let me say that it runs across the ridge at the top of Croton Gorge with a magnificent view of the "New" (1903) Croton Dam. This Dam is the largest hand hewn built structure on earth outside of the Egyptian Pyramids.
Ok, so you have an idea of how big this dam is right? And if I am on a ridge that is actually slightly higher up then I am pretty high up the gorge no?
So I take a picture. And I decide I want to change out lenses. Hmmm... one would think an intelligent woman would step AWAY from the edge of the gorge. But, no... I do not and as I take off the lens it flips out of my hand and down the gorge. I watch it flip and roll and bounce while saying quietly to myself... No! Stop! No! Crap!!!!!
It did stop- amazing because it really had nothing to stop it. This is not a slope- that would be a kind description. It really is as close to a cliff as you can get without a sheer drop. It is so steep one MUST use hands to help get down and up... I know this because, yes, I did it.
What was I thinking? I don't know... surely not that if I fell I would more than likely die because nothing would stop my roll but the river at the bottom. Surely not that I have 4 children who need a mother. No, I was thinking Lance will kill me if I come home with one fewer lenses. I was thinking, well if I fall, I better have my coat on so I don't get hypothermia while I wait for someone to find me (seriously, I thought this!!! NOW do you get how steep this thing is?)In the same thought though, I took my cell phone OUT of my pocket and put it in the car lest I drop it and lose it. Uh- huh. Smart girl you know!
Mind you I spent my early childhood in the mountains of California and I was not afraid to climb massive boulders and trees and anything else. I have not however, done that as an adult!
This slope was far steeper than the black diamond slopes on the Zugspitze in Germany. With me still? Yeah, well you would have probably NOT have been.
It was something else and apparently after the adrenaline rush that lasted about 40 minutes to climb down and back up, I could NOT stop shaking. Finally I put some protein in me and the shaking eased... but the muscles in every part of my body are killing me today. Oh and so is my vanity. I did this in 4 inch heeled dress boots with no tread. Yup. My hands are torn up, I have a nasty thorn in one from desperately grabbing a scrawny bush as I felt my foot sliding- only to realize the whole bush was a thorn bush.
After, Jason(Tiffy's husband) over the phone said... "Isn't that the one you have two of? You probably could have gotten a replacement on eBay for like $30" All I could say is "shut up Jason, I don't want to know that now!"
The pictures do not do justice. I got to the top and thought to grab the camera out of the car (where I put it for the climb, thus I know my brain was functioning at some level prior to the escapade) and took some pics of the slope to TRY to show you what I did. I will go back today with Lance and let him see if he can do more justice to the site. You know pictures never do justice.
I am home, I am fine. I am sore... and I am realizing I am still a little spontaneous. I thought I had lost that. This is inspiring at this point in my life. I am not a boring mom... I am ...well I don't know... but I am still learning.
For all the pics I took, visit our online albums at Picasa...http://picasaweb.google.com/lancenjulie/LateFall08?authkey=G4VNioWHAM4#
If you have trouble with that we are under picasa web albums and our user name is lancenjulie.
Happy Holidays All!
I had been told by the school bus driver that Batten Road is a great view of the dam once the leaves are off the trees. So I went. It sure is! Let me say that it runs across the ridge at the top of Croton Gorge with a magnificent view of the "New" (1903) Croton Dam. This Dam is the largest hand hewn built structure on earth outside of the Egyptian Pyramids.
Ok, so you have an idea of how big this dam is right? And if I am on a ridge that is actually slightly higher up then I am pretty high up the gorge no?
So I take a picture. And I decide I want to change out lenses. Hmmm... one would think an intelligent woman would step AWAY from the edge of the gorge. But, no... I do not and as I take off the lens it flips out of my hand and down the gorge. I watch it flip and roll and bounce while saying quietly to myself... No! Stop! No! Crap!!!!!
It did stop- amazing because it really had nothing to stop it. This is not a slope- that would be a kind description. It really is as close to a cliff as you can get without a sheer drop. It is so steep one MUST use hands to help get down and up... I know this because, yes, I did it.
What was I thinking? I don't know... surely not that if I fell I would more than likely die because nothing would stop my roll but the river at the bottom. Surely not that I have 4 children who need a mother. No, I was thinking Lance will kill me if I come home with one fewer lenses. I was thinking, well if I fall, I better have my coat on so I don't get hypothermia while I wait for someone to find me (seriously, I thought this!!! NOW do you get how steep this thing is?)In the same thought though, I took my cell phone OUT of my pocket and put it in the car lest I drop it and lose it. Uh- huh. Smart girl you know!
Mind you I spent my early childhood in the mountains of California and I was not afraid to climb massive boulders and trees and anything else. I have not however, done that as an adult!
This slope was far steeper than the black diamond slopes on the Zugspitze in Germany. With me still? Yeah, well you would have probably NOT have been.
It was something else and apparently after the adrenaline rush that lasted about 40 minutes to climb down and back up, I could NOT stop shaking. Finally I put some protein in me and the shaking eased... but the muscles in every part of my body are killing me today. Oh and so is my vanity. I did this in 4 inch heeled dress boots with no tread. Yup. My hands are torn up, I have a nasty thorn in one from desperately grabbing a scrawny bush as I felt my foot sliding- only to realize the whole bush was a thorn bush.
After, Jason(Tiffy's husband) over the phone said... "Isn't that the one you have two of? You probably could have gotten a replacement on eBay for like $30" All I could say is "shut up Jason, I don't want to know that now!"
The pictures do not do justice. I got to the top and thought to grab the camera out of the car (where I put it for the climb, thus I know my brain was functioning at some level prior to the escapade) and took some pics of the slope to TRY to show you what I did. I will go back today with Lance and let him see if he can do more justice to the site. You know pictures never do justice.
I am home, I am fine. I am sore... and I am realizing I am still a little spontaneous. I thought I had lost that. This is inspiring at this point in my life. I am not a boring mom... I am ...well I don't know... but I am still learning.
For all the pics I took, visit our online albums at Picasa...http://picasaweb.google.com/lancenjulie/LateFall08?authkey=G4VNioWHAM4#
If you have trouble with that we are under picasa web albums and our user name is lancenjulie.
Happy Holidays All!
Saturday, November 1, 2008
should old aquaintance be forgot?
As time went on I thought that I did not need any old connections. I thought that while I remembered so many, they must have forgotten me. I thought that even if they did remember me, they had their lives now and who needed someone from the past?
I thought I would be okay with not knowing who got married and what their beautiful children would look like. I didn't think the guys that made all us girls so giddy would make comments about how beautiful it is to have children and be dad's. I didn't know it would matter to me that I would be so proud of my friends from days gone by who have achieved great things.
I didn't think I would tear up at the thought of the joy that can be found when connecting with the past but living in today.
Grateful, I sit here and close out my day, thinking that finding our roots in our past is a good thing, a blessing. Tonight as I go to bed I am just a little more secure in my world, a little more connected to this place we call earth and a lot more happy that I have found a lost part of my past and realized it is still relevant to making today a great day and tomorrow a wonderful possibility.
I thought I would be okay with not knowing who got married and what their beautiful children would look like. I didn't think the guys that made all us girls so giddy would make comments about how beautiful it is to have children and be dad's. I didn't know it would matter to me that I would be so proud of my friends from days gone by who have achieved great things.
I didn't think I would tear up at the thought of the joy that can be found when connecting with the past but living in today.
Grateful, I sit here and close out my day, thinking that finding our roots in our past is a good thing, a blessing. Tonight as I go to bed I am just a little more secure in my world, a little more connected to this place we call earth and a lot more happy that I have found a lost part of my past and realized it is still relevant to making today a great day and tomorrow a wonderful possibility.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
When Sleep Comes Not
When sleep comes not... I rest upon my chair...fingers on the go, ready to release the pent up thoughts... to find the peace that comes when I am empty of word and thought once again.
When sleep comes not...I have seen one of them die...and I awake with knotted throat in fear of what is not real...and praying they are sleeping sweetly yet.
When sleep comes not...all that is plain to see in daylight hours...becomes a monster of its own...feelings are not exempt and I pray that I won't drown in them as I empty my heart into this technological void.
When sleep comes not...my tea bags are abused and my cup will finally be sitting as empty as I feel... and finally know that I am ready to try again.
When sleep comes not...600 count sheets mean not a thing...naked skin, soft fabric, pillows from heaven, do not bring what I want most... to simply sleep.
When sleep comes not...I have seen one of them die...and I awake with knotted throat in fear of what is not real...and praying they are sleeping sweetly yet.
When sleep comes not...all that is plain to see in daylight hours...becomes a monster of its own...feelings are not exempt and I pray that I won't drown in them as I empty my heart into this technological void.
When sleep comes not...my tea bags are abused and my cup will finally be sitting as empty as I feel... and finally know that I am ready to try again.
When sleep comes not...600 count sheets mean not a thing...naked skin, soft fabric, pillows from heaven, do not bring what I want most... to simply sleep.
people dying stinks.
No matter how hard we try to prepare ourselves for it, no matter if we try to separate ourselves from someone to avoid the pain, no matter how much warning or how little- death stinks.
Phone calls in the middle of the night pretty much only mean one thing- unless it is from someone who is a known drinker, in which case they are generally a "hey how are you doing? Oh were you sleeping?"
Those are preferred to the ones with hushed tones that apologize for waking you. The ones where your heart skips a beat if you turned on the light and can see the caller id and know it is not frivolous.
About midnight last night the call came for me. My mom on the line, quiet and calm (in shock) to say my grandma Shirk had died within the last hour, unexpected, no reason apparent, just gone. Grandpa is in desperate grief. She was his everything. He speaks of killing himself so that he can just get his misery over with. He cannot see a life without her. My step dad is going to face two funerals in a matter of months I am sure.
Then you drive your husband to the train station and keeping it together pretty well until on the way back, alone on the curvy roads in the early morning dark, Mark Shultz sings "Walking Her Home" and the tears start to fall. Might as well be trying to drive in a hurricane for the visibility. Why did I pick this morning to listen to my new WOW cd? I had no idea that song was on there. Great way to find out, no?
Then comes the telling the children. Do you do it before school and ruin their day? After and ruin their evening, leaving them without the solace of finding laughter and peace with their friends? Forgetfulness in school work?
For yourself once they are all gone and you are home alone facing a long day-how do you keep the heartburn away? How do you get rid of the stupid awkward lump in your throat that makes you feel you cannot take a deep breath?
And why of all days do you choose to wear eyeliner on this day?
Phone calls in the middle of the night pretty much only mean one thing- unless it is from someone who is a known drinker, in which case they are generally a "hey how are you doing? Oh were you sleeping?"
Those are preferred to the ones with hushed tones that apologize for waking you. The ones where your heart skips a beat if you turned on the light and can see the caller id and know it is not frivolous.
About midnight last night the call came for me. My mom on the line, quiet and calm (in shock) to say my grandma Shirk had died within the last hour, unexpected, no reason apparent, just gone. Grandpa is in desperate grief. She was his everything. He speaks of killing himself so that he can just get his misery over with. He cannot see a life without her. My step dad is going to face two funerals in a matter of months I am sure.
Then you drive your husband to the train station and keeping it together pretty well until on the way back, alone on the curvy roads in the early morning dark, Mark Shultz sings "Walking Her Home" and the tears start to fall. Might as well be trying to drive in a hurricane for the visibility. Why did I pick this morning to listen to my new WOW cd? I had no idea that song was on there. Great way to find out, no?
Then comes the telling the children. Do you do it before school and ruin their day? After and ruin their evening, leaving them without the solace of finding laughter and peace with their friends? Forgetfulness in school work?
For yourself once they are all gone and you are home alone facing a long day-how do you keep the heartburn away? How do you get rid of the stupid awkward lump in your throat that makes you feel you cannot take a deep breath?
And why of all days do you choose to wear eyeliner on this day?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)