Jason's Mom

Live it Up, Sharyl.

2012-01-22T19:28:00.003-06:00

I'm going to have to start blogging more often because I don't want to only write when someone dies. It seems that certain people in my life deserve more than a card to their family or a check to a charity.
My friend Sharyl Patten entered heaven this afternoon after a three year battle with cancer. Once again I'm sitting here thinking back on all the connections I have with someone who has left this life way too early.
I don't remember a time when I didn't know Sharyl. She was one of my sister Phyllis's best friends, so as a kid, I tagged along with Phyllis and Sharyl so that I could play with Sharyl's sister, LuAnne. After they married, Phyllis and her husband were friends with Sharyl and Dave, and I remember them being at my mom and dad's playing cards or wahoo or dominos. The one night I remember best was the night Lori (less than 2 yrs old) was sitting in Dave's lap at the card table, and she bit the living daylights out of him. He took her out of the room to spank her, but none of us knew why, and he was so mad that it took him a while to tell us. Awkward. We thought he had lost his mind.
If I remember right, Sharyl was my niece Janna's babysitter for a while after Phyllis went to work. Then when I married into the Humphrey family, I learned that Sharyl was a life-long friend to Tony's family. Their families go back a couple of generations. Tony's dad and Sharyl's dad were best friends.
Years ago Sharyl went on a couple of ski trips together with Mary Trahan, my sister-in-law Cindy and our kids and their friends. Carson and Jason were so very impressed with her because she was such an awesome skier. She was fun to travel with and a very good sport when we stayed in the worst motel in Colorado in Del Norte.

When Sharyl was diagnosed with cancer three years ago, I was just sick, but I really thought that if anyone could beat it, she could. I hate this evil disease.
I've been thinking all afternoon about what Sharyl is experiencing right now. Barney, Phyllis, Jason and many others are welcoming her to paradise. There's no chance that the room she had been assigned is anything but perfect. That motel in Colorado was so bad that they actually gave us a room because there wasn't room for all of us in the two rooms we had reserved. Her room in heaven is perfect--clean, safe, comfortable--just the opposite of the Del Norte room with the smelly carpet, hollow core outside door, tiny bathroom, uncomfortable beds.
As I've said often, I don't believe in Rest In Peace for a believer. Live it up! Sharyl. No more pain, no more cancer, no more chemo, no more radiation, no more stomach issues, no more procedures. Her glorified body entered heaven whole and healthy. She's breathing the freshest air imaginable (probably in the mountains of heaven). I've told this story to several people, but I have to share it with her family. I read this analogy in a book recently. If a thousand years is like a day and day is a thousand years in the Lord as the scripture says, Sharyl will only be in heaven minutes before all of us join her. That blessed my heart because I have a hard time thinking of Jason waiting for all of us. If we do the math, he's only been there a few minutes.
To her family, my heart is sad for you. Your loss is great and anything I say will not lessen that pain right now. You have all been so tough and faithful to Sharyl during her illness. You have some really long days and nights ahead. Hold tight to one another to God. It's the only thing that works. Love you all.

Memory lane.

2011-12-03T16:16:00.003-06:00

I finished decorating my house for Christmas today. I put up some decorations before Thanksgiving and finished today. My Christmas ornaments took me down memory lane. Three years ago, I couldn't even decorate my tree. My friends Toni and Mel came over and did it for me. It's taken three years for me to be able to decorate it without crying, so I'm feeling really proud of myself today.
I collect ornaments, mostly Hallmark, but I have many, many that have been accumulated in a life of 57 years.
My oldest ornaments are from my childhood. There was a box of ornaments in my Mom's attic that she quit using. I latched on to them because I just couldn't stand to see them thrown out. I'm so glad I did. They are a little faded, and because Mom always sprayed her tree with that canned snow stuff, they have some marks on them, but I love them.
I started buying ornaments for Jason in 1977 when we moved to Wellston. There are three little elves and an ornament hanger that I bought for him at Terry's Drug.
Then I have all the homemade ornaments. The little ceramic ones made by Granny Violet for the kids, the plastic canvas ones made by my mom, the crafts Linda made that made us laugh and laugh. My sister Linda was almost blind, but she continued to make crafts at Christmas. Her ornaments were always so funny. One has a deer glued into an acorn shell, but the deer is facing backward. God love her; she never gave up.
I have some really sweet ones that were given to my kids as gifts. Allison's first Christmas ornaments came from relatives in Texas and Tony's cousin Jim who lived in Germany at the time. The Texans sent a Dumbo and Goofy for Jason and a "Baby's First Christmas" ball for Allison, and the ones from Jim are a little tiny baby in a cradle, a rocking horse, and a teddy bear. The year Carson was born, my friend Teresa Smith made a set of ornaments for the kids with their picture in it.
When Allison was two I started buying Hallmark ornaments-one for each member of the family. I don't buy them until after Christmas, and I try to get something that will reflect something in that year for each kid. Mine and Tony's are the series ones. Football players, basketball players, baseball players, cowboys and cowgirls, cheerleaders, golfers, skiers--do you see a trend here? Since we have had Lucy, I have bought a dog ornament for her, so we now have twelve of those. Add that up. 29 x 4, plus 24 x 1 plus 12 x 1. I don't want to know how much I have spent at Hallmark the day after Christmas. I have several OSU ornaments that were either gifts or that I purchased myself. I also have some gifts that make me think of a person who was in my life for a season, former students, friends I don't see much any more, colleagues. I wonder if I will always remember who these things come from. Right now I do.
I buy an ornament when I travel. This year I added a moose from Durango and a guitar from Graceland. My most expensive ornaments are a recent collection. I have about five White House ornaments. They are absolutely beautiful and worth the splurge.
I have three brass snowflakes that Cooper's Funeral Home gives to the families who have lost a loved one the previous year. I hope I don't get any more of those for a while. I have Mom's, Dad's, and Jason's. I have two of the "I'm spending Christmas in Heaven this Year" ornaments given to me the year Jason died, and a beautiful hand-painted horse and rider that one of Jason's friends sent to me that year. I made some Pray-for-Us ornaments with Jason's picture in a clear ball that I gave to his friends so that they would always remember us at Christmas time.
My tree is full, probably too full, but I just can't make myself get a second tree. I also can't make myself give the ornaments to the kids. That was the original intention. I'm so glad I didn't give Jason's to him. If I had, there's no telling where they would have ended up. Sorry, Allison and Carson. These are staying at my house. I'll eventually have to divide them up, but it won't be for many, many years.

Online Church

2011-10-23T19:44:00.002-05:00

Several years ago a young preacher told us that the next generation of believers would be doing church "online." I hated that idea then, and I still hate it today because I believe strongly in the relationships that "real" church provides. Last week a friend told me of a sermon to listen to called "Disappointed in Jesus," so I listened to that sermon; then I saw that the same minister had a series of five sermons on heaven, so I listen to those; then I saw a couple of other titles that intrigued me, so I listened to those. Don't get me wrong, they do not take the place of "real church" for me, and the relationships that I have with the people in my Sunday School class are vital to my well-being, but I really like having these sermons available to me when I'm having trouble sleeping or when I wake up way too early to start my day or when I'm sitting watching television and realize that the subject matter of the program is really inappropriate for a believer. That's happening more and more lately; I'm not sure if the programming is worse or if I'm getting more sensitive to the garbage that the networks are doling out. This week I've listened to nine sermons when I count the one I heard at church this morning. That's pretty neat especially because I was able to pick and choose the topics that interested me.
The website is gatewaypeople.com, and the minister's name is Brady Boyd. I think I'll start with the b's and just work my way through these folks first. I loved the five sermons on heaven because he would take a verse that reveals something about heaven and use that little nugget to teach a truth that gave peace to my heart. There are as many of my immediate family in heaven as there are here on earth, so heaven is of great interest to me. He did not read one scripture that I have not already read in those sermons, but he opened my mind with his take on what the scriptures tell us about heaven. I'm going to have to eat some words about how awful I thought online church would be. What I love most is that the internet can be used for such harmful, awful things, but Christians can claim it for God and advance His kingdom with Biblical, sound teaching. Pretty cool.

Cheerleaders

2011-09-16T15:48:00.003-05:00

This message is for:
All Tecumseh Cheerleaders from 1991-1999, Jennifer Cox, Toni Henry, Cindy Hale, Amy Sampson...

Yesterday and today I have been traveling down memory lane through cheerleading uniforms of days gone by. As you know I am coaching 9th grade cheerleaders who were issued one uniform. That's right, one uniform. I did some investigating and discovered that there is a box in the deep recessed of the maintainence garage. This box is about 4 feet tall, three feet deep, and 5 feet wide. It is full of cheerleading and dance team uniforms from the 90's.
Every uniform is connected to a group of girls that I have "mostly" fond memories of. The funniest thing was that as I was sorting them, I was calling them what the squads that wore them called them. The White T, Zig-Zag, THS (they loved that one because it was so comfortable, SAVAGES (they hated this one because it rubbed under the arm pits). I loved it because it was so pretty, but it was a very expensive top. The lettering on it cost as much as the top. The very first one I remember connected with me was a black and gold with very small white piping, but it had no emblem. I don't know why we didn't get an emblem for that one.
Some of the epic fail uniforms were there. The white dress that the dance team wore in 98,
the crop top that was so thick and stiff that nobody wanted to wear it, again the one that rubbed the arms, the knit jacket that looked sharp but was almost too hot to cheer in, the knit sleeves that were meant to be worn under the sleeveless top, the black body suit that was also miserable to wear.
I took several tops for my cheerleaders; tops are classic-they never go out of style. Skirts, on the other hand, do. Girls today do NOT wear pleated skirts. There are black ones, white ones, box pleated ones, fly away ones, three pleat ones (the freshmen are going to wear those). Some have trim on the bottom, some on the sides. Some trim is black-white-gold-white-black, some black-white-black, gold-black-gold, etc. You get the picture. Anyone but me would have looked in that box and separated them out into black and white skirts, but I knew exactly which top went with which skirt-by the trim. I took about five tops and two skirts for my girls and three jackets. You would have thought it was Christmas yesterday. One of the girls even said, "This is legit." Yeah, yesterday was a good day. Monday will be better because I worked on the skirts that didn't fit, so now they also have a solid black three pleat skirt and a white skirt.

Another deposit in heaven

2011-09-04T20:35:00.004-05:00

Tecumseh made another deposit in heaven today. Natalie Wood O'Dell went to heaven about 6:00 leaving behind her two daughters and precious grandchildren, her parents, nieces, and many, many friends. Natalie was only 49 years old and Cancer stole her from us. We have worked together on Relay where Natalie was in charge of the Survivor dinner. She wanted so much to live, and she was such a positive survivor. When the cancer came back, she fought once again, but she just couldn't beat the demonic disease.
Jason liked Natalie. Her nieces were his good friends, and she was always at ag events and ballgames, supporting him and his friends.
Natalie had a great laugh. She will be remembered for that laugh--evidence of her love of life. She loved Jesus and her family. She shouldn't be gone; she joins so many who have entered heaven too soon from our perspective. If Jason didn't immediately know she was in heaven, she probably laughed at something Jesus said, and Jason heard her and came running to show her around. I'm a little jealous. I can imagine Jason meeting her with a smile, a tease, and pride. He's probably saying, "Come on, you've got to see this place. Let me show you my horse. He's better than any I ever owned down there."
My heart aches for Kirby, Kayla, Brandy, and Jennie. They all love her so much. Her grandbabies have been cheated. I've said it before, and I'll repeat it. I Hate Cancer!!

Going through "stuff"

2011-07-13T14:27:00.002-05:00

I started a project today that I have put off for two years and ten months. I've been going through Jason's "stuff." His wonderful friends in Nebraska packed up his things, and we stored them in a spare bedroom. We've gotten a few things out of there, but for the most part everything has remained the same as when we first placed it in there. Now comes the question, What do I do with all of this "stuff"?
I pulled out ballcaps and have been washing them in the dishwasher today. I condensed all of the shirts and jackets in one bin and all of the jeans in another. I pulled out all underwear, socks, sweats, etc. and will decide later what to do with them. I condensed all leather stuff, chaps, bridles, boots into one bin. I pulled out all OSU t-shirts. I already know what I'm doing with those. I'm making myself a quilt or throw out of those. I will take my time, quilt around all of the designs, and maybe use some of the jeans to make dividers. Even if it takes me months to finish, it will be a labor of love. It will be the kind of quilt that I will be able to put on the floor and let babies crawl on or take to a ballgame to sit on or place over your legs.
I've never been one to make a shrine to someone I've lost, but I think it's time to make a place for Jason's most valuable treasures. The belt buckles, spurs, and a couple of plaques and pictures are going to go into my China cabinet. I have a cowboy hat that I will probably have steamed and cleaned to put there. I have to be careful. I don't want to make everyone sad when they walk into my house, but I have to honor him. It's not like his memory ever leaves our minds.
I'm open to suggestions.

Education Funding

2011-07-07T14:24:00.005-05:00

I went to my very first protest today in Oklahoma City. We met outside the Cox Center to try to draw attention to the bleak future of public education in Oklahoma.
Let me just state some of the thoughts that have been going through my mind and reveal some of the arguments I heard today against the State Superintendent of Public Instruction in Oklahoma.
Dr. Baressi is a dentist who thinks she has the answers that will fix the problem in public education in Oklahoma. At this point all we have heard from her office since she began her term is how much reform is needed to fix education. I talked to two friends who are administrators in a different school district. Both of them said that they can't get information from the State Department. Everything seems to be shrouded in secrecy. Is it secrecy, or is it possible that nobody really knows what needs to be done? Is it possible that now that her people have found out the parameters that they must work under, they realize that they don't really have a plan?
We all know that there are some changes that need to be made, but our current state administration seems to believe that we should be able to do more with less, so they release mandates and cut programs that help schools meet the mandates.
One of the decisions Dr. Baressi has made is to cut out the National Board bonus that the state promised to pay. I know that she (like all politicians) will say that cuts have to be made, but why NBCT? The state agreed to pay $5000 per year to any teacher who successfully went through the National Certification process. This certification is over and above the required Oklahoma certification requirements. I spent one year examining my teaching practices and evaluating everything I do in my classroom to see if it measures up to the best practices in education. I videotaped my lessons, prepared a portfolio, and took subject matter examinations to prove that I was worthy to wear the NBCT label. I did my part. A couple of weeks ago we learned that the remaining bonuses will not be paid. I'm at the end of my ten year certification, so it will not impact me as much as some of the people who have been recently certified. My heart breaks for them. Some of them will not find out until November if they achieved certification, but instead of getting a $5000 bonus in January, they will get a certificate to hang on the wall. Not the same, is it?
I listened to various stories today that I will now share.
Some teachers decided to pursue National Board instead of getting a master's because it would be more financially profitable. Now, time has passed, and they do not have a master's, and they get nothing for being NBCT.
One teacher said that it has taken eleven years for her to get to the regular teacher salary that she made in Georgia eleven years ago. That was her reason for going after National Board. She wanted to get closer to her previous salary.
The state of Oklahoma spends almost four times each year to incarcerate a prisoner than it does to educate a child.
Dr. Baressi stated that she hoped the local district would honor the $5000 bonus. I did not make an agreement with my local district. They only way the local district can do that is to cut other areas. In our district the number of NBCTs are about the equivalent of two beginning teacher salaries. If we use that money, every teacher and student in our district will suffer with larger class sizes. I do not know one teacher who is willing to do that to our district.
According to one teacher today, the schools have been told that they can use money earmarked for textbooks to pay the bonuses. Really? We're going to continue to use old textbooks...that's not too big a problem in my area. Literature doesn't change, but let a science or history teacher use a textbook for fourteen years instead of the usual seven years, and students will be shortchanged.
Next to my faith, my conviction in free public education is a cornerstone of my belief system. I believe that every American student should be provided with opportunity. Opportunity is provided through education. Quality education costs money.
I left Oklahoma City today feeling very frustrated, but I've decided that I will continue to be vocal. This was just step one.

Unbearable grief

2011-06-05T15:04:00.002-05:00

I have experienced grief, real grief, not the superficial heartache that we many times overreact to, but I've never experienced anything like the Anthony family is experiencing with this trial. I remember when the little girl was missing and they suspected that her mom was somehow involved. All of this happened the summer before Jason's death. At that time I had grieved the death of two sisters and both parents. I remember saying that although I missed them all, at least I had never lost a child. I couldn't imagine surviving the loss of a child. About the time of Jason's death, the details started coming out that connected the mom to the death of the child. I remember thinking then that there are things worse than death. I miss my son every day, but I don't think I could bear thinking that one of my children killed his or her own child. It would be bad to think that one of them could kill anyone, but to kill their own child--unbearable.
I have a morbid curiosity about this case. Every time I watch the news reports, I try to put myself in the place of that mother. Her heart was broken when her granddaughter was killed, but the torture that she is experiencing now is just beyond anything that I can imagine. I don't know if she is a woman of faith, but if she isn't, I hope there are people of faith reaching out to her.
My kids were heartbroken to lose their brother, but this week this woman's son is having to testify in a court of law for the prosecution that may lead to his sister's execution. She is having to hear that her daughter is now accusing her husband of sexual abuse. I know we overuse this phrase, but bless her heart.
I've heard over and over that a parent should never have to bury a child, and I agree, but what this family is experiencing should never happen either.
I'm going to pray for this family. The kind of comfort that they need can only come from God.

Elderly---Really?

2011-05-26T09:42:00.006-05:00

How do I define elderly? Elderly is relative. When my husband's grandmother was in the nursing home at 96 years of age, I asked her who she ate with. Her response, "Lena VanMeter, Bessie French, and two elderly women" How old do you have to be to see yourself as elderly?
This week there was a horrible car accident near here. The tv news broke in to regular programming and reported a car accident with two fatalities. Immediately the text messages started. Does anyone know who it was? Were there kids involved? Soon I started receiving texts from teacher friends. Yes, three teenagers were injured, but a couple was killed. Now, don't blame them; they were just relaying what they had heard. One said an "older" couple were killed. One said an "elderly" couple. My mind went to 75-85. That's my definition of elderly. Guess what, the couple was my age. That changed my perspective, I thought of their survivors. When I thought they were in their 70's, I was thinking of their mature children and young adult grandchildren who would have to deal with such a horrible accident. I figured they were retired, so their day-to-day circle of friends would be small. I even wondered if they had been advised not to be driving by their family who would have to deal with the grief combined with guilt.
When I think about a couple taken who are in their 50's, everything changes. Now I'm thinking of their co-workers, young adult children, young grandchildren, friends...the list goes on. What if that had been Tony and me? I certainly started thinking how much stuff we've accumulated that needs to be tossed. I don't want anyone to have to go through all that junk and wonder why we haven't thrown it away. I thought of my kids. Now, part of me was thinking how much I've missed Jason and how wonderful it would be to be with him, but Allison and Carson are still here. I want to stay to see where life takes them. I want to have grandchildren some day. I want to retire some day and see what that is like. I want to visit Ireland and Scotland and re-visit England. I want to go to Alaska and many other US states that I haven't visited. I really want to do of this before I'm "elderly." It may be too late.

Another Mother's Day

2011-05-08T19:40:00.003-05:00

I've been thinking of my mom today. I went to early church because we were having lunch at Cindy and Randy's. Early church sings hymns which takes me back to my childhood memories of church. My mother led singing in church, so hymns remind me of her. Today's selections could have been sung in my church in the 60's. "Holy, Holy, Holy" "Are You Washed in the Blood?" "Amazing Grace" took me back. We didn't clap much in our church, but I remember when we did, Mom had a little extra rhythm, a tribute to her Pentecostal roots. She was such a sweet, demure lady that it was always a little funny to me to hear her clap so enthusiastically at church.
My mother was ahead of her time when it comes to her Christian convictions. Some of these things I've shared before, but they are worth repeating.
Once when a young, single lady in our church was expecting a baby "out-of-wedlock," some of the ladies of the church didn't want to give a shower at church, so my mom and my sisters gave the shower for the girl. It was well-attended and showered that baby with all the necessities that all babies need. That is a Christian witness that makes me proud.
When we went to the Free Will Baptist Convention in Indianapolis, there was a Guns and Roses concert on the same night as the big missions meeting. These events took place side-by-side in a downtown area. It was quite a sight to behold. Walking side-by-side down the sidewalks were men in suits, ladies in their Sunday best and a pretty rough looking crowd of young people going to the concert. We were driving around looking for a parking spot when we saw a young lady in a rather risque dress and obviously drunk or high. She was leaned up against a building and seemed to be struggling to make her way to the concert in her very high heels. My mom's response was, "Bless her heart." I was so proud that my ten year old daughter and her friend heard a seventy year old woman speak with a compassionate, Christian heart instead of an "I never" attitude.
Mom was a fun Granny. She was happiest when her house was full. One Christmas she and Dad bought Atari systems for all four of our families. My sister-in-law and I left our four kids with Granny to go to the after-Christmas sales. When we returned, the living room was a mess, and Granny was sitting on the floor with the kids playing Pac Man. Jason and Toby were so proud of themselves for teaching her to play a video game. If I ever get to be a Granny, I want to be that kind of Granny.
I think the most astonishing conversation I ever had with my mom was about two months before her death. She was diagnosed with polycythemia, a blood disorder, in 1988. In the summer of 1996, she was very ill, and we were going to OKC every week to a doctor's appointment. Her bloodwork was not looking good, and she and I were both facing realities that we didn't want to face. One day on the way home, my mom said, "I've prepared my whole life for this, and even if I've been wrong, I still believe that living my life by the teachings of Jesus is a better way to live." That's when I realized just how wise my mother was and how far away from her I was in my Christian walk. I'm a doubter, but I didn't know my mother was too. Her honesty was so refreshing to me, but I couldn't help thinking that she was way beyond me. I was a Christian because I wanted to go to heaven; she was a Christian because it was the right way to live.
I've said this many, many times, but its truth is evident. My mother is the voice in my head. I haven't talked to her since the summer of 1996, but her words and actions, her witness to me and my family, her abiding faith prepared me for the grief that has come to my life.
Mother's Day is a bittersweet day for me. I miss Mom, Phyllis, Linda, and Jason, but I put on that smile that my mom would want me to wear and hope that I can be one-half the witness to others that she was to me.

Some interesting information about Tecumseh graduation.

2011-04-15T20:51:00.003-05:00

Once again we have a heated controversy concerning Tecumseh's graduation, so I've decided to do some research. I have every yearbook from 1962-1973, so tonight I'm sitting in the floor looking at graduation pictures. Here is what I've found:
1962--No picture in the yearbook; I think THS Auditorium
1963--THS Auditorium--This building was torn down many years ago.
1964--THS Auditorium
1965--THS Auditorium--I think I remember that they only got 2 tickets per graduate because my sister graduated that year, and only my parents went.
1966--Football Field--according to my brother-in-law, people fought this change that year.
1967--Football Field
1968--Football Field
1969--Football Field
1970--Football Field
1971--Football Field--if you have a chance to look at the pictures in the yearbook of that year, please do it. The wind was blowing so hard that microphones were covered with little socks, all of the girls were holding on to their hats, the archbearers were being blown away.
1972--Footbal field
1973--Pre-graduation pictures were at the football field; storm came in; graduation moved to gym about fifteen minutes before ceremony was supposed to start. I graduated that year and just got in the car and went from one place to the other; I can't imagine the nightmare the administration and staff experienced.
I have no accurate information for the years between 1974 and 1991.
1991--Raley--changed at the last minute because of rain.
1992-Raley--changed at the last minute because of rain.
1993--Raley--This class decided from the beginning of the year to hold graduation at Raley as the first choice. My son was a senior; I was a class sponsor, so I speak with authority.
1994--2010--Raley

My experiences with outdoor graduations have been awful. I've already reported what happened to my high school ceremony. I graduated from college at UCO in July. Let me just say that a heavy graduation robe coupled with required "stockings" for the girls made for a very hot afternoon. Jason graduated from OSU in early May, and we just about froze to death during the afternoon ceremony.
People have made several suggestions about Tecumseh locations for the graduation. There is no indoor facility in Tecumseh that is as large as Raley Chapel. I hate to put exact numbers because someone will jump on any inaccuracy, but I'm going to lowball the estimates for all venues. Raley holds 2200; the Alumni Building is maxed out at 1100 or 1200; the gym holds about 1000; Church of Christ will hold about 1200. I don't know about Evangelistic Center. Those are the only places I can think of.
I had three children graduate from Tecumseh at Raley Chapel. If you ask them where they graduated, they would answer Tecumseh.
I know that Lloyd Noble, the Cox Convention Center, Rose State are used by many schools for their ceremonies. I could look it up from the various school websites, but I don't really need to prove it to me, so if you want to, you can. I'll suggest Noble, Purcell, Little Axe, Putnam City West, Choctaw. I know there are others.
Our faculty has been accused of lobbying for Raley, and I am honestly offended by that. I've told students of my experiences, but let me assure you of one thing. If the class voted to have its graduation at the football field, I would support them 100%. I may not agree, but it is their graduation. I've thought for years that we are probably going to have to have one graduation at the field so that the community will see that an outdoor ceremony in May in Oklahoma is not ideal.
I can assure you of one thing--the administration, faculty, and staff of Tecumseh High School will do all we can to make graduation night special for the graduates. We will make whatever adjustments we have to make for the ceremony whereever it is. I really don't think we are off-base for wanting it to be in a place where we will have no surprises.

Minutes in heaven.

2011-04-11T10:09:00.002-05:00

As most of you know if you have been following this blog, I've made many deposits in heaven in the last 20+ years. It started with my father-in-law in 1988,Mom in 1996, Phyllis in 2002, Daddy in 2003, Linda in 2005, and Jason in 2008. I didn't even include in that list Tony's two grandmothers, my grandparents, and various aunts and uncles in both Rider and Humphrey families who have passed away during that time. Therefore, I read everything I can read about heaven. I want to know where these loved ones are, what they are doing, what the place looks like, everything. Recently I read the book Heaven is for Real which started me thinking of Jason and the interraction he is experiencing with all those who went before him. I've always liked the idea that Jason is with my parents and his granddad, my sisters, and his grandmothers that he knew well. What the book did for me was to make me realize how far back the generations go, and to think of him with young and able-bodied great great grandparents is so much fun.
The little boy in the book visits heaven and gets to spend time with a grandfather that died before the boy was born. When he is back here, he is able to point out "Pop" from a picture of when Pop was a young man. When his dad showed him a picture of Pop as an old man, the boy says, "Dad, people don't wear glasses in heaven." There are no old people in heaven. I love, love, love this idea.
My mom's brothers and sisters were a group of the most loving, fun, happy Christian people I've ever known, but most of them suffered from physical ailments here on this earth. I can only imagine the laughter these people share in heaven when they don't have any pain or illness. After the stories they told about picking cotton, I wanted to pick cotton. They made it sound fun, but I've seen those movies; I've read the books. There was nothing fun about the experience unless you had my Uncle Earl to make it fun. I wonder if they are getting to pick cotton, but it is not hot, the cotton is not heavy, their hands aren't being destroyed.
I was reading the end of another book this week about how we would live if we only had thirty days to live. It sounds morbid, but it really isn't. It just makes us realize that we spend time like we have all the time in the world, but if we knew how long we had, we would be more intentional in the way we waste our resources. The end of that book has a story of a woman who has been told that she is dying. Her husband has their minister come to pray with her, and she teaches him a lesson that he passed on. The Bible says that With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years is a day. The woman reminds the minister of this truth and then says. I've done the math. If my husband lives here for forty years after I'm gone, it will only be about an hour in heaven, so I'll just have to wait an hour.
My heart soared at this news. Jason has spent minutes in heaven. Our grief has gone on for two years and six months, but he hasn't even been there long enough to see the place and all the people who went there before him. If we use her math, my mom was only there about twenty minutes before Jason joined her. That explains so much to me. I always think of the people in heaven waiting for us to join them like we wait for a baby to be born. Expectantly. Hopefully. Joyfully. Their time is so much different from ours. One thing that has bothered me is thinking of Jason being cheated out of a long life because he love life. For some reason I'm not bothered about that now.

March 18th

2011-03-18T10:17:00.002-05:00

I never dreamed 36 years ago that I would start March 18th with a visit to the cemetery. Jason's birthday is here again and with it comes the full range of emotions in our family. We miss him; we celebrate him; we grieve him; we love him; we long to see him; mostly, we remember him.
As a baby, Jason was a dream for two young parents who didn't have a clue. He never spit up, he was never sick until he was about eight months old, he was happy, he was an entertainer. He ate like a baby is supposed to eat. The only thing I ever worried about during his first years was that he got the hiccups every time he laughed out loud. I was afraid that he would always do that.
As a pre-schooler, he was a whirlwind of activity--his scars all came before he started to school. I could not get that boy to think before he moved.
As an elementary school kid, he was just fun. His teachers all laughed at the number of times he would volunteer me to make cookies. He had no inhibitions; he was always willing to step us and participate. One year his teacher (I think it was Mrs. Yates) brought gourmet foods to class and had a tasting party. Jason tasted every food--caviar, chocolate covered ants, whatever she brought. He got the super taster award at the end of the year. He played the lead in a musical where he sang solos and performed without fear. He was a great kid.
As a teenager Jason was busy, busy, busy. His horse show schedule combined with Ag, basketball, and school (which was not high on his priority list) kept him in constant motion. I was so fortunate to join him at THS during his sophomore year and share in the fun. He had great, loyal friendships and a sweet girlfriend who is now with him in heaven.
As an adult Jason experienced the range of ups and downs that everyone faces. He loved his time at Connors and OSU, maybe a little too much. He loved training and showing horses. When he married, I had no reservations, but it didn't last. That was something he just couldn't get over. He made several statements to me that made me think that he thought he had let us down. I hope I was able to convey to him that we recognized that marriage is difficult, and many, many people have a hard time staying married today.
What would he be doing today if he had lived? I have no idea. He would still be horsing around; I'm sure of that. It does me no good to think that way. What is he doing today? Something so wonderful that I couldn't describe it even if I could get a glimpse of his eternal life.
I went to the cemetery this morning and saw that the tulips that I planted there this time last year have come up. They haven't bloomed, but they look healthy and full and ready to bloom any day now. That felt like a little message from God to me. It said, "I'm here; your boy is with me; everything will be ok."

Remembering my Son

2011-03-17T23:36:00.002-05:00

Tomorrow should have been Jason's 36th birthday. I miss him so. I don't want to torture myself by reading through my blog entries, but it does help to know that we are better. The grief is not as raw as it was when I was writing these entries. I copied my very first entry onto this post because it tells of Jason's birth--one of the happiest days of my life.

I called this blog Jason's Mom because the day I became his mom, my identity was clear. I had been Nate and Mabel's youngest, Linda, Phyllis and Nathan's baby sister, Tony's wife, but when I became Jason's mom, I became focused on my purpose in life. Later I would also bear the name of Allison's mom and Carson's mom, so I still have my purpose. I just don't have Jason. I have no idea why I am writing in this blog, but I am grieving and can't sleep. It is 2:21 A.M.; I've been lying here since 11:30--thinking, remembering, reading, but not sleeping, so now I will write. It is my therapy.
Jason was born March 18, 1975 in Shawnee, Oklahoma. The day of his birth was an event in our home town of Tecumseh. I had been in labor for awhile and wasn't progressing, so at 2:00 the doctor told me he would perform a c-section at 5:00. Word spread like wildfire, and my memory is clear of a sea of faces looking down the hall when I was being rolled into surgery. Honestly it was a little overwhelming. Too many people for what seemed a private event, but that would begin a life for a baby that grew into a man whose funeral was one of the largest our town has ever seen.
Jason died in a tragic one vehicle accident one week and two days ago in Gordon, Nebraska. We had almost a week of preparation before we could bury him because he was so far away when he died. Now the family has gone home, his brother and sister have gone back to Stillwater, his dad and I are trying to put our home back together, and I can't sleep.
Maybe if I write down some of my thoughts, I will find release from the sleeplessness. I may find it too hurtful and give it up. Who knows?

Serendipity

2011-03-13T21:04:00.005-05:00

I haven't written in my blog in a while. I think I've lost my muse, but today I found it. I'm in Durango, Colorado skiing with Carson and four of his friends. What an honor to be included in this trip--I'm trying to roll with the flow let this group of 22 and 23 year olds enjoy themselves.
We skied down a couple of runs together this morning, and then I needed to go get my headband, so I told them to go on and I would see them later. I headed down the mountain by myself. Now this will be no surprise to anyone who has ever skied with me, I got on the wrong trail. I am the world's worst person to follow a trail map. I forget where we are supposed to go and seldom am the person who leads, but today since I was by myself, I was my own leader. I ended up on a lift that I hadn't ever seen before, but it turned out to be a great experience. The part of the mountain that I was on was empty this morning, so I was just skiing down the runs, minding my own business when a squirrel ran right out it front of me. I ran smack dab over his tail without a witness in sight. It was a serendipitous moment for both of us.
I'm reading the new book called, Heaven is for Real; many Christians doubt stories like this, and that's ok with me, but since I have a son in heaven, I'm hungry for information about this place. The little boy who visited heaven tries to describe the colors that he saw. I couldn't stop thinking about that today as I was worshiping the nature surrounding me. The sky was bluer than normal, the snow was pristine white, the evergreens were rich green, the people skiing are wearing the colorful coats, hats, etc. It was almost too much for me to take in. I'll use that as the excuse for getting on the wrong trails. Sadly, it wasn't only once. I spent about two hours this afternoon skiing blue runs (my 56 year old knees prefer easier greens) because I kept taking the wrong trails.
Tonight I'm exhausted. I've had my shower and am about to read a little and go to bed because the wonder of God's creation exhausted me. Now I have no idea if we will ski in heaven, but if we do, our knees won't hurt, we won't get cold, the snow will never be icy or slushy, and maybe my glorified body will have an internal GPS that will keep me on the right trails.

Confession

2011-01-08T16:45:00.002-06:00

I have a confession to make. For the past two years and four month, my prayer life hasn't been what it should be. Prior to Jason's death, I started most days by reading a passage of scripture and writing a prayer in my journal. Since his death my prayers have been sporatic and inconsistent. If someone asks me to pray for him/her, I'll do that, but that's not enough. Prayer should be daily communication with my heavenly father. Prayers shouldn't be just asking for something; prayers should also be praise, adoration, thanksgiving, and confession.
If you go back and read my journals prior to Jason's death, you will see that daily I asked God to protect my children--physically, emotionally, and spiritually. When Jason died in a car accident, I guess I lost the portion of faith that I needed to count on God to protect my children. Has God protected them anyway? Yes, He has. They are both doing well. Does that mean it is useless for me to pray because they are blessed whether I pray or not? I don't think so.
I don't know if it is the beginning of the year resolutions or if I just reached the amount of time since Jason's death that I'm doing some self-examination, but I've started my prayer journals again. One of the reasons is that I'm reading a book called One Month to Live. At first I thought the topic would bother me, but instead it has made me think about the legacy I want to leave behind for my kids. It is very important for me to send the message loud and clear to them that my faith in God remains strong. How will I do that if my journal ends with Jason's death?
Therefore, I will journal my prayers again. I still won't go back and read the old journals yet, but someday I might.
The most important prayer I prayed was for God to take care of Jason spiritually. He answered that prayer because today Jason's life continues in eternity. Thank you, God for answered prayer.

2011

2011-01-02T13:31:00.002-06:00

2011--whether you say "two thousand eleven" or "twenty eleven" doesn't matter. The year is here, and with it comes all the "new year" thoughts and feelings. I don't make many resolutions any longer. I've become cynical because I know that I don't keep many of them. I've started a diet because I don't feel very well at my current weight. It is no longer about looks for me; I just want to feel good, and I think I will feel better with some weight off.
We're going skiing in March, and I always ski better when I weigh less. Is that a sign of maturity or an admission of reality? The reality is that at 56 years old, I no longer try to get ready for swimsuit season which was always my motivation to lose weight when I was younger. Now I just want to eat healthy so that I will enjoy this life.
2011--puts us one year farther away from the last time I saw Jason. He was here in July 2008--it doesn't seem possible that it has been over two years since I saw him or spoke to him.
With all of the other people whom I have lost in my life, a certain time after their deaths I started having dreams about them. The dreams are very real and usually just include them in a family gathering--it's never a one-on-one situation. The dreams don't make me sad because I feel like I just got a little visit from Mom, Dad, Phyllis, or Linda, but I haven't dreamed about Jason much. I wonder what the psychology of that is. Maybe it would be too painful for me, so my mind won't let me go there.
2011--what will it bring? I've quit guessing or predicting. Life is going to happen. I'm just along for the ride.

It's here--Christmas

2010-12-21T19:18:00.003-06:00

We've already had two of our three family Christmas events. On Sunday we celebrated at Aunt Polly's with the Humphrey families. We have much to be thankful for. Cody, who spent six months in Afghanistan, is home along with his wife, Ashley. They drove in from San Diego Saturday, so we celebrated together Sunday. I've known for weeks that he came home unharmed, but I really like to see for myself that he is ok. I'm so hoping that he remains stateside in 2011. Kirby and Beth brought down pizza from a place in Piedmont, and we had too much food once again.
Sunday evening we traveled to Wellston to celebrate with Phyllis's family. I love seeing all of her grandkids opening the gifts that Papa Fred bought. We play Dirty Santa each year, and it's now possible to include all of the kids in the game. They are so very funny. There's not a mean bone in any of the young kids, so they don't "get" the Dirty Santa object. They just trade around until everyone gets something they wanted. It's always during the Dirty Santa that Phyllis's presence is missed the most. She was always the rulemaker each year, and we all just followed her rules. Ironically, Sunday was the anniversary of her death. We didn't mention that, but it was "the elephant in the room." I have to remind myself that she is in heaven and not missing us which is one of the greatest mysteries of eternity. We miss her so much. How could she not miss us?
Of course, Jason's presence was a huge void at both houses. Seeing Carson, Kirby, and Cody around the table with no Jason is painful. Then thinking how close Marty, Monty, and Jason were when they were growing up and seeing their families so grown up makes me miss Jason all the more. He was always a part of that Christmas and loved teasing those kids. Janna and Jason were so close as kids, but as adults they seemed to bond even more.
I guess we're all determined to celebrate the holidays despite the losses we've suffered.
I keep thinking of all the families in Tecumseh who are struggling through their first Christmas after the death of a husband, wife, child, grandchild, brother, sister, friend. We've had too much loss this year.
To the Fowlers, Tiffins, Cokers, Belvins, Vickerys, Bowlins, Trousdales, Wardens, I know that this year is unbearable. Our first Christmas without Jason was the most difficult of my life, and I've had difficult Christmases. I couldn't take a picture, I couldn't bake his favorites, I couldn't shop, I couldn't decorate. Fortunately, I'm surrounded by a support group of friends and family, so I made it through. Every family that I mentioned is strong and united. They will survive this Christmas together.
I am praying for all of these families, especially the ones who are grieving the loss of a child. We will never be the same, we will never celebrate a Christmas without a bittersweet memory of our missing children, but each year will be less painful than the one before.

Finally, What a Relief! What a Blessing!

2010-12-05T14:08:00.003-06:00

Today our church called a new pastor, ending weeks of searching for the right man for the job. I am such an impatient person that this once again has been difficult for me. I like order, structure, and consistency in church. I want to know when I go who will be speaking, and the last several months have been week after week of surprises. Some of those surprises have blessed my heart, so I really shouldn't be complaining; I'm not sure I am complaining; I'm just very glad that the search is over, and we have a new man in the pulpit.
He comes from a church three times larger than ours, so I'm sure he has already encountered all the personality traits, quirks, and oddities that a congregation can hold; therefore, I don't think I have any advice for him. We're a dysfunctional, functional family made up of flawed, perfect people. Does that make sense?
I'll just say that what I love about Harrah Church is the heart it has always had for the lost. Harrah Church in the few years I've been there has been a church to win unchurched people for Jesus and then to mentor those people along in the faith. Are we always successful? No, some of the people we have won to the Lord no longer attend Harrah or any other church, but many of them are actively serving God in positions that a few years ago they would have never thought possible.
What does it look like when you reach the unchurched? The unspoken "rules" are completely foreign to these people. They don't dress "churchy"; they don't always speak "churchy"; their testimonies are real, sometimes heartbreaking, but always inspiring; they love Jesus, and they want all of their friends and family to love Jesus too.
When my kids have attended church with me there, the boys were bothered by the hats worn in the building. You see, Jason and Carson knew the "rules" of church--they would never enter a church building with a cap or hat on. It was funny that I was the one to have to explain to them that God was looking at the heart of these men, not the top of their heads. Rules like that can be barriers to the very people we are working to reach. You would have thought that the older generation would have had to be taught tolerance, not the other way around.
I'm looking forward to years of working alongside Kevin Daniels and his family.

Trash talking

2010-11-27T20:41:00.003-06:00

I have an aversion to trash talking. Why? I'm not a trash talker, so I don't want people to talk trash to me. I think I'm going to create a line of tshirts and hats that say. I'm a __________(you can put any team name in here)fan-with a big ghostbusters sign over a trashcan. I think I might be able to sell them to many, many people. I can't be the only person who feels this way. If you see the people around you at a ballgame wearing that shirt, you know that they will be nice to you, they will cheer for their own team, they might yell at a referee, but they will not be unsportsmanlike to the opponents.
It probably comes from eighteen years of being a cheerleading sponsor/coach. I wouldn't let my cheerleaders do those UGLY cheers; you know the ones that put down the opponents. I guess that way of thinking permeated my brain.
One of the reasons I hate it so is that it brings out the very worst in people (me). People that I love and agree with on almost every other important issue in life can make an ugly comment about a team I like, and all of the sudden, my mind is working hard to come up with a comeback. I can tell you that my comebacks are usually pretty good, but no one will ever know that because I keep them to myself.
Now, if you buy one of my shirts and I hear that you are talking trash, your shirt will be revoked without a refund.

Let's try something new; what a concept.

2010-11-06T17:59:00.005-05:00

Recently, there have been multiple occasions where Christians have gathered to protest another person's or group's freedom. There was a Satanic group that had some kind of meeting in OKC, and some believers went to protest. An atheist group has put up some billboards promoting athiesm, and believers were outraged. Many, not all, Christians have shown their ugly side over the mosque being built in NYC. This is still America, isn't it?
My proposal is based on I Peter 2:11-23; the heading in my Bible says
Living Godly Lives in a Pagan Society
11 Dear friends, I urge you, as foreigners and exiles, to abstain from sinful desires, which wage war against your soul. 12 Live such good lives among the pagans that, though they accuse you of doing wrong, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day he visits us.
13 Submit yourselves for the Lord’s sake to every human authority: whether to the emperor, as the supreme authority, 14 or to governors, who are sent by him to punish those who do wrong and to commend those who do right. 15 For it is God’s will that by doing good you should silence the ignorant talk of foolish people. 16 Live as free people, but do not use your freedom as a cover-up for evil; live as God’s slaves. 17 Show proper respect to everyone, love the family of believers, fear God, honor the emperor.

18 Slaves, (Debbie's note: employees) in reverent fear of God submit yourselves to your masters (bosses), not only to those who are good and considerate, but also to those who are harsh. 19 For it is commendable if someone bears up under the pain of unjust suffering because they are conscious of God. 20 But how is it to your credit if you receive a beating for doing wrong and endure it? But if you suffer for doing good and you endure it, this is commendable before God. 21 To this you were called, because Christ suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in his steps.

22 “He committed no sin,
and no deceit was found in his mouth.”[a]

23 When they hurled their insults at him, he did not retaliate; when he suffered, he made no threats. Instead, he entrusted himself to him who judges justly.

Some people will see this as letting the pagans take over. If you believe what the Bible teaches, this world already belongs to the pagans. I certainly believe we must keep ourselves blameless, but lately I don't think some Christians are very good ambassadors for Christ. I don't think this means we should just ignore everything that is going on around us, but I do think we need to stage a respectful event that brings glory to God if we want to challenge another's rights.
Let's give this a try. Don't just wear the t-shirt or the bracelet. Really ask yourself, "What would Jesus do?" When you encounter someone who insults you because of your faith, be as Christlike as is humanly possible so that they can find no fault in your example. I've known some Christians who can do this; I'm sorry to say, I haven't always represented Christ in the best way.
Hey, I'm now fifty-six years old. I've learned a lot in all those years, so I'll make every effort for the rest of my life to think before I argue, think before I spout off, think before I comment. Man, that's a lot of thinking.

Time

2010-11-04T21:20:00.003-05:00

Today I am fifty-six years old. How in the world did that happen? I don't feel as old as I used to think a fifty-six year old person would feel. I've always been of the "you're as old as you feel" train of thought. I'm planning to feel young for the rest of my life. I really inherited that mindset. My mom was young at heart, so I'm going to follow her example. She was always the kind of person that everyone wanted to be around. Most of the people I work with are younger than I am; some are young enough to be my children, but we have so much fun together. They're all a bunch of dorks sometimes, but they certainly keep me laughing. Today I received a birthday card from my planning period buddies Jennifer Cox. and Jennifer McKnight. Jennifer C. wrote a very nice, heartfelt message in the card. Sweet right? Then Jennifer M. wrote the exact same message right below it. Anything for a laugh, I think tomorrow, I will act like my feelings are hurt because Jennifer M. made fun of my birthday message. I won't do that because I learned a few years ago that I shouldn't be a part of practical jokes. We thought we would pull a good one on McKnight by telling her that we had to come back to school the day after Memorial Day because they had made a mistake in the calendar. We had to lie to Cox too because she can't lie to save her soul. The problem was that Cox canceled a very important day with her daughter because she thought she had to go to school. Mr. Blue was NOT happy with us. We all pretty much decided that we needed to ease off the pranks.
As always, I'm thinking of Jason today. I miss getting that phone call. Right after his death, his friend Jake gave me the book 90 minutes in heaven. Occasionally, I re-read the chapters that describe heaven. I know time will mean nothing in heaven, but I was thinking this week that if it did, the people up there probably feel sorry for he ones who had the longest life here on earth.
We tell everyone happy birthday to celebrate their living one more year on earth. We really should be offering our sympathy. The luckiest ones are the ones who live here for a brief time and a longer time in heaven.
We're not going to care about this when we get there, but I can imagine the conversation.

Heaven's Greeter: Hi, welcome to heaven.
Newbee: Wow, this place is awesome.
Greeter: Tell me about yourself.
Newbee: Well, I was a wife, mother, grandmother, great-grandmother. I had a very long long.
Greeter: Oh, bless your heart; I'm so sorry. Don't worry, honey, everything's going to be all right now. All your troubles are over.

Peer Pressure

2010-10-17T17:01:00.003-05:00

We constantly tell kids not to give in to peer pressure, but guess what? I cave in to peer pressure every week at least once. I don't have a problem with caving on the things we warn kids about. I don't drink, not because I think it is a sin. I just don't drink. I don't smoke because I spent the first 18 years of my life breathing in second hand smoke and going to school every day smelling like an ashtray because my dad smoked. When I finally starting breathing fresh air, I became determined to continue to take care of my lungs. I won't follow someone into breaking the law or doing something immoral. My problem is one of attitude.
We discussed this in my Sunday School class this morning and then the preacher mentioned the same thing in the sermon. I think God is trying to tell me something.
I am very easily swayed when I'm around someone with a negative attitude. I can be in a decent mood when someone I'm around starts talking about how horrible our society is, how much worse kids today are, how much things have changed in a very short time, how teachers are in a no win situation today....and I will join right in. Pretty soon, I'm hating my job, regretting my choice of careers, dreading entering the classroom.
I can go visit someone and be in a perfectly good mood, and then the conversation turns to someone who has done something to make me mad. Usually this person has not hurt me but someone I love. I will join right in to the conversation until, by the time I leave, I'm angry all over again. I'm a fool.
I can get on Facebook and be looking for the funny posts that I love so much concerning life and living. Suddenly, someone posts some statistic or fact that is negative, someone else posts some anti-(fill in the blank) tirade, some political misinformation, whatever, and I am either joining in or arguing in my head with them. I have learned not to type my arguments in. Facebook is supposed to be fun; if it isn't, I'm getting off.
I'm going to make myself a list of Commandments.
I shall not surround yourself with negative people.
I shall not sit at a lunch table with people who want to talk about anything serious.
I shall not enter into an argument on Facebook.
I shall not allow another person to determine my attitude or remind me of the things that I need to forget.
I shall remember that I am a child of God, saved by grace, on my way to heaven.
I shall remember that I have been blessed beyond measure with healthy, happy children. Although we lost Jason from this earthly life, my future with him is secure.
I shall remember that I will spend eternity with the Savior that I worship and the family that I love.
I shall remember that Attitude is the Mind's paintbrush, it can color any situation.
(I didn't write that one myself. It's on a poster that has been in my classroom for several years.) I choose to paint my mind with pretty, positive colors. I'm not going to allow anyone to put those dark, dreary colors into my mind.
Good Lord, I'm almost fifty-six years old. When will I get this stuff right? How many times do I post something like this and wonder why it has taken me so long to realize this? I pride myself in being a life-long learner, but I wish I hadn't taken so long to learn, and relearn, so many life lessons.

What a treat.

2010-10-10T13:49:00.002-05:00

I go to church each week in anticipation. We are in between pastors right now, so we don't always know who will be speaking. This morning I was pleasantly surprised by a blast from the not so distant past. Kenny Myers who was my pastor at Tecumseh was our guest speaker. I've missed his sermons so much. He is funny and wise (should I add "beyond his years"), but what rings true from him in every sermon I have heard him preach is that he has a heart for Jesus. He knows what is important, and he stays with that message. Following Jesus is all that matters.
Today he used the example of the disciples who had been following John the Baptist but immediately left John and began following Jesus when they met Him. He asked us who we were following. In the two years since Jason's death, I have read everything I can find from the Christian perspective about grief. I have attended Bible Studies and searched for answers. I have read blogs, facebook entries, magazine articles, and all tell me the same thing. Time is the great healer; however, I really wanted more than that. I want a step-by-step procedure to survive this trial. Guess what? It doesn't exist. This is what is important. Jesus, the incarnate God, came to earth, lived, preached, died, and rose again so that I could survive this unimaginable loss. Jason believed that; therefore, he Lives in heaven. I believe that; therefore, I will someday join him in heaven. I want to live my life so that anyone who doesn't believe that will see a difference in me and how I handle this life and will want to know about the God I serve.
Will I ever get beyond my grief on this earth, probably not. Jason was my child, my baby, my little boy, my kid, my son. His death left a huge gap in my family, but there is no gap in my heart because I still love him the same today as I did the day he was born. For me he still exists. I've read the books, I listened to the songs, I've talked to others who have traveled this road, and all tell me to keep my eyes on what's important.
Today's message reinforced all that I have learned in the past two years. Thank you, God, for sending your man to preach a message just for me. I know there were hundreds of people in the service, but the message was mine.

Hair Bigotry

2010-10-04T19:02:00.004-05:00

Psalm 71:18
Even when I am old and gray,
do not forsake me, O God,
till I declare your power to the next generation
your might to all who are to come

Gray hair--does it trigger respect? honor? humor? What do I think when I see someone with gray hair? Sometimes I think, do I look that old? Sometimes I think, I hope I look that good. I jokingly told my students today that gray hair is a symbol of wisdom and respect, but is it really? I let my hair go gray because I wasn't fooling anyone. I colored my hair for several years, but because I am blessed or cursed with healthy hair that grows fast, a color would only look good for about two weeks. Then my gray roots would show, and everyone knew the "truth."
My sister Phyllis was very ill at that time that I decided to quit coloring, and I was very stressed because the reality was hitting me that she wasn't going to get better. When you combine the genetic fact that my mom went gray early to the stress of watching my sister die a slow, agonizing death, my hair just kept getting grayer and grayer. I finally just gave up.
What is different about the way people treat me? Well, a couple of years ago, our Language Arts department attended a computer workshop, and the instructor stood behind me because she thought I needed constant help. In truth I wasn't the one that needed the extra help. It was my first experience with prejudice. It made me laugh at the time, but truthfully, it also made me mad.
One place I've really noticed that I'm treated differently is on the ski slopes. People gingerly ski past me; I guess they don't want to knock me down because I might break a hip.
I can remember my mom complaining that men could go gray and look distinguished, but when women let their hair go gray, they just look old. Does it bother me to look old? I guess not. If it did, I would color my hair.
Let's go back to the scripture at the top. God doesn't care what color my hair is. He will not forsake me, He will not assume that because I am gray that I am not as "sharp" as I used to be. He still expects me to declare His power to the next generation.
My mom was one of the most "young at heart" people I've ever known. I hope one of the many things I learned from her is to maintain the mindset that I have something to offer. God's message is timeless; I can't go wrong.

Music

2010-09-19T19:26:00.002-05:00

At Jason's funeral the minister told us to find comfort in music. I try to do that--I try to listen to "positive, encouraging" music of all genres. I don't have to just listen to Christian music to get positive messages, so I listen to all kinds of music. My ipod is very eclectic--blues, jazz, country, rock, folk, Christian. I don't like rap or heavy metal, so I leave that to others.
I have been amazed at the number of times in the last two years that I have found comfort in the music at church, on the radio, on a cd, on my ipod. Today one of the songs we sang at church was new to me. Get this, the refrain said, "The love of God is stronger than the power of death."
I need to talk to the people who choose the selections at our church and let them know that I appreciate that they listen to the Holy Spirit when selecting music. So many times in the last two years, they have chosen a song that has ministered to my broken heart. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
I'm determined to make my life worthwhile. I'm tempted to hole up and pout, but I refuse to do that. I will make whatever time I have left on this earth good. I want to honor Jason that way. I think sometimes I have to do all the good he didn't get to do.
This week marks the two year anniversary of his death. My mind has been going wild with memories of the last time I saw him, the last time I talked to him, the moment I was told that he was dead, the days between his death and his funeral, his funeral. The days, weeks, month following his death. I'm going to be honest. God did something in my heart at first. In the early days after Jason's death, I really couldn't feel anything. The pain would have been so great that my heart might have stopped except that God protected me. By the time the first two weeks had passed, my heart caught up with my mind; I still have moments when I just can't believe that he is gone.

Dreaded weekend

2010-09-18T19:40:00.002-05:00

I've made it pretty well through September. I've had my moments, but for the most part, this month has been just like all other months. Some days are harder than others.
Football season makes me sad. There's so much to remember about Jason and Cowboy football. He loved his Cowboys. If he wasn't able to attend the game, he would call or text to keep up with the score. I was so accustomed to having to watch or listen with my phone in hand that it seems strange to just watch.
I've been kind of busy the last two days. I had Friday off just as I did two years ago, but I wasn't as productive yesterday as I was that year. I scrubbed the porch and front of the house that year and worked in my flower beds. I kept thinking that I would do that yesterday, but I just didn't have it in me.
I had to go to a funeral yesterday afternoon. My childhood friend Marla buried her dad, so my mind has been wandering back to the past. Then Tony and I ate at Boomerang last night. He loves to go there on Friday nights because they have fried catfish. I think he would go every Friday if I didn't put my foot down and refuse. Nothing against Boomerang, it's just that he doesn't need that much fried food.
He went out to Bruce's after dinner, and I went to the school to catch up on some work. I can get so much done when I am down there alone. I'm way too social to get much work done on parent/teacher conference nights. I love the people I work with, but our time together is limited to a few minutes before school and thirty minutes at lunch. We had a ball Thursday night when all the parents were gone, and we were left in the lounge to finish out the night.
It's kind of a joke that we go into our rooms and spend all our time with students that we don't really see one another from Aug. to Christmas, but our faculty is so different from most school staffs. We've truly been through so much together that we have bonds that transcend friendship and go straight to family.
Births, deaths, illnesses, accidents, graduations, kids moving out, kids moving back home, all of life's drama has been shared with these people. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that many of them are praying for me this weekend and will continue next week.
Today has been just what Saturday always is for us. We went to Hardesty's, Firelake, home. I went to Shawnee and ran a couple of errands, came home, cleaned house, did laundry, reviewed Sunday School lesson, now I'm listening to Cowboy football. It's a blowout,so I think I'll turn it off and watch a movie. I've got papers to grade that I should do tonight because Carson is coming home tomorrow to spend the day with us. I know I won't get anything done until tomorrow night, so I'll just get it done tonight so that I will be able to enjoy my day with the kids.

Grace

2010-09-12T17:49:00.002-05:00

My Sunday school class has been studying Peter. I think there is a reason that they chose to study him. It may have been to teach me. He is a character that I can all relate to. He stuck his foot in his mouth just like I do. He was impetuous, impulsive, (notice that both of those words start with imp). He was the one who denied Christ. He actually said the words, "I don't know him." We talked in class about how we deny Christ today. I've never been in a situation where my life was in danger, so I can't say what I would do if I were threatened. I hope I would remain faithful, but I have denied Christ by my actions. I've let people look at me in my silly seasons and think, isn't she supposed to be a Christian. That's denying Christ. I think one important thing for us to think about is what we do after we have done something that denies Christ. Many of us have gone into hiding or avoided ministry because we don't feel like we should represent Him. Someone else who has been wiser has to do that job.
After the resurrection Peter preached the sermon recorded in Acts that ended with 3000 people becoming believers. What if Peter had gone in hiding after he heard that rooster? What if he had done the "human" thing and felt unworthy to witness? What would have happened to the cause if he had kept quiet on the day of Pentecost? I've also had to rethink my feelings about "fallen" people being in the ministry. If God wants someone to continue to preach, who am I to say they aren't fit? I wonder how old I will be when I get this all figured out?

September

2010-08-28T17:04:00.002-05:00

This week will bring with it the first of September. Last year September kicked my butt. As soon as I started seeing that month, I began to relive the previous year. Up to the 20th, I kept thinking--this time last year, Jason was still here. Did I talk to him one year ago today? What was he doing? Then from the 20th on---my thoughts went through reliving the days following his death. I am determined to meet September head on this year. I planted mums today. As soon as the pansies and cabbages are out in the stores, I will plant them. I will watch and enjoy OSU, Miami Dolphins, and THS football. I will remember Jason, but this year, I'm determined to remember the good. I have some projects to do that will occupy my time and bless the people who loved him. I refuse to let a month that always was a pleasant month for me become a month of constant pain.
September was usually a month of misery for Jason. His fall allergies were pretty rough. Claritin, Allegra, Zyrtec, nose spray..He tried it all. That's one consolation I have. There's no need for that stuff in heaven.
That's really the only way I can survive. He still exists. He is whole, healthy,
perfect. Even those precious scars that so identified him here are gone. I know that my friends and family are praying for us this month and every month. I also know that God is answering those prayers. The most unimaginable pain is survivable. I really didn't think it was. I really thought that losing a child would destroy me, but Jason is in my future. I don't know how many Septembers I have before I see him, but I refuse to let the month knock me flat ever again.
I am a child of God with a future in heaven. The days of my life here on this earth are nothing compared to the time I have in eternity. I will forever focus on that.

Nice to meet you, I'm your great great great grandfather.

2010-08-21T14:54:00.002-05:00

I've been thinking about heaven a lot lately. I've been to so many funerals and visited with so many grieving parents and grandparents in the last few months that I guess it's no wonder. Something has come to my attention recently, and it's so obvious that I feel like saying, duh, but I love my new train of thought.
I always think of Jason in heaven with my parents, Tony's dad, my sisters, and some of the other relatives that Jason knew here on this earth. What has come to my attention recently is that Jason is in heaven with ancestors that he nor I ever met.
I come from a long line of Christian people. I wonder how many generations back his new acquaintances go. Has he found the source of his passions? Has he met a great great grandfather that he has so much in common with that they hang out all the time?
Jason loved music, loved to sing, loved to listen to music. Has he found a person in our ancestry that shares that love. Do they sing together? What perfect harmony is he listening to?
Does he know these people immediately, or does each generation have to introduce him to the one they knew until they go all the way back to ....(I don't know who).
My cousins have searched the Rider family all the way back to England, but they go back farther than that. I wonder if I had a relative that was one of the early Christians. Maybe I have a blood connection to one of the early believers. Maybe the Apostle Paul preached in a city that my ancestor lived in, and that ancestor shared his faith, lived his faith so that his children and children's children were also believers.
I think I'll start praying for my descendants. To think that I will be able to meet my great great grandchildren someday when I never knew them while I was living...that's pretty cool. I hope that they will be able to trace their lineage back to my life. Luckily, it won't stop there because I stand on the shoulders of previous generations of Christ followers.
I get antsy with this life. I would love to have grandchildren when the time is right, but I'm already 55, so I doubt that I live to see great grandchildren, but who cares, I'll spend eternity with them, and I won't be aged and infirm. I'll be able to match them step for step.

I'm so tired of going to funerals.

2010-08-14T16:44:00.002-05:00

It is becoming embarrassing. What in the world are we doing in Tecumseh, Oklahoma that is causing all this suffering? How can we stop it? I went to ANOTHER funeral of a 22 year old this morning. I'm seeing the same kids and parents over and over again in the worst of circumstances.
Today's service was for Garrett Bowlan, a classmate of Carson's from both South Rock Creek, THS, and OSU. Another auto accident took the life of one of our beloved kids. Garrett was senior class president of the Class of 2006. He was a story-teller, fisherman, hunter, photographer, artist, musician, and all around great kid. I know, he was 22, so he wasn't a kid now, but in my eyes, he's still Garrett the kid with the great big smile.
As far as funerals go, this was a good one. Garrett was a "Christian and proud of it." His mother read a book report that Garrett wrote that pretty much summed up his life. Wow, he never wrote anything that profound in my class. I guess he grew up from the time he was a junior until he was a college sophomore.
The thing that really got me today was seeing the faces of the SRC parents. It was only a few years ago that we all sat together at little league baseball games and cheered as our kids played. It was only a few years ago that we sat at the SRC Christmas programs or Community Club meetings. There was a common look in all our eyes. Shock, fear, disbelief-how could these kids be leaving us so soon? Why? How can we be assured that it won't happen again?
Because of the recent barage of funerals, Garrett had made his wishes known. He wanted a casual celebration of his life, so that's what he got. People were wearing orange that have never worn orange in their lives. I took pictures. Several people spoke and told funny stories-a vital part of a funeral to me. It didn't use to be, but now it is. I'm so glad we had my nephew Marty speak at Jason's service. He told story after story of Jason's childhood and had the entire crowd wiping tears of laughter. That's so appropriate for people like Jason and Garrett who loved to laugh and to make people laugh.
I'm ready for some happy occasions. I'm challenging all the students who have been so saddened and affected by the recent deaths of their friends and classmates to invite their former teachers when they are having events to celebrate. We want to be a part of your weddings, Christenings, graduation parties, whatever. We'll bring presents; we'll help clean-up; we'll do anything to see all of you in happy moments.
Live it up, Garrett Bowlan. I can only imagine.

I'm gonna miss that smile

2010-07-24T12:53:00.003-05:00

When Wayman Tisdale died of cancer last year, Toby Keith immediately wrote a song; he called it "Wayman's Song" but it became Jason's song to me the very first time I heard.
I’m gonna miss that smile
I’m gonna miss you my friend
Even though it hurts the way it ended up
I’d do it all again
So play it sweet in heaven
’Cause that’s right where you wanna be
I’m not crying because I feel so sorry for you
I’m crying for me.
That was one of the songs played at Brittany's funeral today, and it made me realize that of all the things I miss most about Jason, his smile is foremost. I love looking at his pictures and seeing a real smile, not a smile for the camera, but a smile that came from pure joy of living.
The pictures of Brittany were the same. The things they all had in common was a beautiful smile that told us that she loved life and loved the people she was with when the picture was taken.
I'm very sentimental today; it's Allison's 30th birthday, and she isn't here to celebrate, but I'm overjoyed because she has a new job that is a wonderful opportunity for her. She'll be home next week for a week, so we'll celebrate big time when she gets home.
Going to another young person's funeral has emotionally worn me out, but I'm later going to a birthday party for Bruce and Brian's 60th birthday. This is a huge event for us because it's the first of our friends to turn 60. How did it happen so soon? Just a fews days ago we were talking about turning 40.
We've been knocked around considerably in the past 20 years, but I'm so thankful for the friendship that we will celebrate today. Bruce's wife has been my very best friend since before I started to school. That's a long friendship.
While we are at the party, we will see friends that we haven't seen since Jason's death. That's always difficult for me, so if you read this between the hours of 3 and 8 today, say a prayer of strength for me. I'm kind of weepy today, and I don't want to put a damper on the afternoon.

Rant--Facebook etiquette.

2010-07-21T21:23:00.001-05:00

I just went to visit Brittany Coker’s family. Brittany was killed in a car accident last night, and her death was posted on facebook before her family was notified. OK, people, you don’t have to be the first to post something as soon as you hear it. Please think before you post.
After I talked to her mother, I realized that I knew of Brittany’s death before her own mother was notified. This shouldn’t happen.
When my son Jason was killed, he was in Nebraska, and the accident occurred at 11:30 p. m. We were notified in person by two deputy sheriffs at 3:00. Brittany’s grandparents were notified of her death by a relative who saw it on facebook. This shouldn’t happen.
Brittany’s mother was told of her daughter’s death over the telephone. This shouldn’t happen.
I don’t know any other way to get to the facebook crowd than to post on facebook, so I’m asking you to copy and paste this to your wall so that it will get to as many people as possible.

Debbie Humphrey

Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

2010-07-20T23:01:00.003-05:00

Changes--that seems to be the pattern life is in for me, my family, and my friends right now. This summer I have had to accept some changes that I'm not ready to accept, and I've rejoiced in some of the changes that I have hoped and prayed for that are finally coming to pass.
At school--Toni, one of my closest friends, resigned to take a job with the American Cancer Society. I know, it's noble work, but I really enjoyed being in the THS foxhole with her. The last few years our entire faculty has changed. Retirement, leave of absence, relocation, and death has taken several of my dear friends that I worked with for many years. Facebook has allowed many of us to stay in touch, so it's not so tough as it could be, but I miss them. I dearly love the people who have been hired to take their places though. I guess there's a lesson there for all of us.
At church--our pastor resigned last week. I'm not going to say it was a complete shock because I've suspected it was coming for a few weeks, but I'm very sad. I'm sad because he is an excellent preacher, and I enjoy excellent sermons. I'm always sad when we have to go through the process of finding a new pastor. It's a trying time for any church. I have every confidence that the men who are on the search committee will be wise in choosing the man God has in mind for us, but I'm impatient; I hate the unknown. The church has only had three pastors in its history, and all have stayed for several years, so I'm sure the right man will be in the pulpit soon.
At home--this is the answer to prayer. Allison is moving back home for a while because she has taken a job with ATT. She will be working in Seminole at the ATT store. If anyone reading this is ready for and upgrade, wait a month so that she can sell you a phone. She is in St. Louis right now for training. I can't tell you how happy I am for her. The added bonus is that I get to keep her dog Lady while she's gone. She may be the sweetest dog in the history of all dogs.
I'm taking a Beth Moore Bible study this summer called Believing God. That's what I'm doing right now. I'm believing God that all the changes in my life are for good. Some are easy for me to see the good, but others not so much. I'm believing God.

Another 4th with some empty places

2010-07-05T09:25:00.002-05:00

Yesterday we celebrated Fourth of July the way we always do, family, feast, fireworks, but we had some empty places this year that made the day bittersweet. Of course, any time the family is together, I miss Jason, but yesterday I couldn't help missing Cody and Ashley too. Cody is serving in Afghanistan right now, and his wife Ashley is living in San Diego. I hope they both had a good day.
We used to have a picnic down at the ponds every year, but many years ago the venue changed to the house. It was at my in-laws until we moved here, but for the past twenty years, it has been at our house. The crowd has changed, and since we no longer have a pool, the activity has changed too.
Aunt Polly, Gigi, and Granny and Poppy come to visit and have lunch. The kids still have a few fireworks, but that has changed too. Now Carson and Kirby try to figure out how they can make louder, bigger explosions by taping or binding things together while Kirby's wife Beth and Allison watch. I had to think of Cody yesterday. He was the real king of blowing things up; ironic since he is now a part of Navy EODs. His job is to find enemy weapons and blow the up. I pray for his safety and am so anxious to see him home. I wondered about Ashley yesterday; Cindy said she was going to be with friends, so that's good.
Jason wasn't ever allowed to have fireworks. My dad and Tony's dad would give him money not to buy fireworks. When Cody came along, he had to have fireworks, so Jason used to be amazed by watching Carson, Cody and Kirby blowing stuff up. He joined in as an adult, but I wonder if he thought we had lost our minds.
I wasn't expecting any yesterday, but Carson stopped at a fireworks stand and brought some stuff to play with yesterday. I didn't hear it, but he said that Gigi told him it was time to GROWUP! She yelled at him probably for the first time in his life.
Yesterday was a good day--it was a rare cool day in July in Oklahoma. A storm came in about 6:00 and poured another couple of inches of rain on us. At least we didn't have to worry about grass fires this year as we usually do.
I cooked fried chicken tenders and baked hot rolls which also made me think of Cody. When he was just a little guy, he could eat his weight in chicken tenders and hot rolls. I wish there was a way to get some to him.
Maybe when he gets home, we will have mock holidays to celebrate with him and Ashley. We could do Easter ham, Mother's Day burgers, Independence Day chicken. As difficult as it is to get us all together now, we may have to do this all in one day.

Answered Prayer

2010-06-27T14:06:00.002-05:00

I think God reads my blog. I posted about how loud the music was at my church, and for the last two weeks, it hasn't been so loud. I learned today that they had an expert come in and balance the sound. Let me just say I appreciate it so much.
Today's sermon challenged me so much. The question was Have you Lost Jesus? In family, in career, or in church. The possibility of maintaining a personal relationship takes an intentional effort.
The preacher mentioned the idea that group dating may be wise for teenagers, but to establish a one-on-one relationship, the couple has to spend time one-on-one. He said that many times we try to group date God. I have been guilty of that. This summer I'm taking the Beth Moore Bible study which requires about five 45 minute sessions each week and two hours on Tuesday with the other ladies in the group. I'm learning so much about myself and God in those private sessions. I'm so jealous of young people who have already figured this out at an early age. Throughout my life I have had periods of private study and periods when I depended on teachers and preachers way too much.

Father's Day

2010-06-20T17:35:00.004-05:00

Today is Father's Day. We have had a very lazy day because the kids are not here; we are meeting Tuesday night to celebrate. Carson has a test tomorrow, so he has to study. Allison is in Stillwater taking care of some business up there. Tony is so patient. He doesn't care at all. I am much more selfish. If I don't see them on Mother's Day, my feelings are hurt. I try to be understanding, but deep-down inside, I'm hurt. It must be great to be a guy. I gave him some golfballs (his favorite gift) and a card. He cooked porkchops and rice for lunch. He's watched golf, and I've watched movies all afternoon. We are pretty boring.
This week I have a very busy schedule. I'm going to the clear sight center tomorrow to see if I'm a candidate for lasix. I'm pretty sure I'm not, but I'm going to see. My friend Cindy and I are meeting for lunch and a movie after my appointment. Tuesday is my Beth Moore Bible Study and our Father's Day night out. Thursday, I'm going with a great group of co-workers and former co-workers to the OKC Museum to see the Sketch to Screen exhibit. We'll get to see authentic costumes that were used in movies from silent films to today. We're having lunch at the museum cafe and attending the exhibit with a docent to guide us through. AND we get to ride the trolley. I love my friends.
I've thought of my dad and Tony's dad all day. They were great guys, so different from one another, but they had one thing in common. They both made me think that they believed my kids to be the greatest kids in the world. I'm sure they made our siblings feel the very same.
Daddy always bragged on my kids because they weren't "smart aleck." I thought that was so funny because I couldn't really think of any of his grandkids that I would have thought had smart mouths. A little part of me is missing them today, but I'm so glad they weren't here to experience Jason's death. It would have bee too much for their sweet hearts.

Another lesson

2010-06-14T21:47:00.002-05:00

I learned something about myself yesterday. Recently I've been thinking that I needed to start going to early church service. Lately the music in the big service has gotten a little annoying to me. It's too loud, so I started thinking that instead of complaining (like an old lady) I would go to the mellower, acoustic service at 9:00. That service is usually an older crowd, but not everyone is older than I am. Many people just like to go early so that they have more time on Sunday after church to relax and enjoy the day.
Since I was going to a concert last night and wanted to leave fairly early, I went to early church yesterday. Ok, I'm not quite ready for that yet. The music was beautiful, but I really need to worship with a large crowd. I've done my share of being in a small congregation; the reason I drive 23 miles to church is because I enjoy worshipping with 400+.
When I first got into the service yesterday, there might have been thirty people in there. By the time it was over, maybe forty more had come in. The problem was that everyone was scattered out, so I couldn't hear anyone singing. I like to have people around me singing; I don't like to watch the musicians and singers on stage like they are performing. They are leading worship, not performing.
So...what to do?
I'm going back to the second service next week, but I'm taking earplugs. I may buy one of those packages that have several pairs and pass them out to the people around me. Recently I have been concerned about the babies I see in the service. Just because it is Christian music, it doesn't mean that noise level is not dangerous to our hearing.
It's not just the volume; as much as I love the new music, I occasionally like to hear a hymn. I didn't know this until I went to Sharon Warden's funeral and the pianist played a medley of hymns. I sang along in my head with every one. I'm thinking that young Christians in our church won't have those words in their arsenal. The words of those old hymns are embedded in my mind. I can pull up the truths of the songs in the hymnal to my mind anytime I need to.
"He Keeps me Singing" "He Set me Free" "I Shall not be Moved" "When we all get to Heaven" "This World is not my Home" "It Won't Be Very Long" "O How I Love Jesus"
Now, believe me, I love the new praise and worship music. I have CD's with songs that I have added to all of the old songs in my mind, but sometimes I just miss the old stuff.
I really just want the music to be music that leads people to Jesus. Whatever it takes to reach people for Christ is what we need to play. I'm already saved and on my way to heaven; if it takes putting the hymnals away to reach the lost, I'm all for it. I am going to try to preserve my hearing. I have enough hearing loss from my misspent youth; I don't need to do more damage at church.

Hebrews 11:6

2010-06-11T21:12:00.002-05:00

Without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to Him must believe that He exists and that He rewards those who earnestly seek Him. Hebrews 11:6

I'm attending a Beth Moore study called Believing God this summer. This is the memory verse that I am supposed to memorize this week. I used to be able to memorize scripture; what happened? Every night before I go to bed, I think, ok, I've got it. Then I wake up in the morning, and it's gone. I wish I had been more diligent to memorize scripture when I was young because I still know the verses I memorized when I was a kid. I know that because all the verses I know are in the poetry of the King James Bible.
I've been studying this week about Believing God for your promised land. I guess I'm stupid because I always think of the promised land for Christians as heaven, but this week's lesson teaches that we should be living in our own promised land here on earth. I don't live there. I don't act like a person who lives in the promised land.
I worry. I fret. I stress. I wake up in the middle of the night and stay awake for hours. That's not promised land living. I'm really hoping that nine weeks of study will get me out of the place I've been in and shove me right into the promised land in my mind.
Back to my memory verse, I do have faith in God, I want to please Him, but I'm having trouble with the last part. Some of the people I know who earnestly seek Him haven't been rewarded the way I thought they should have been rewarded. Beth Moore says we will address my doubts in week three. I'm thinking I should read ahead.
I'm giving the ACT tomorrow, so I'll have four hours to read and study. Is it cheating to read ahead in a Bible study? I don't think so. Especially since my memory is so poor, I will probably forget what I read tomorrow by the time week three gets here.

Now for the big one--Jason Craig Humphrey

2010-05-31T18:37:00.002-05:00

Jason was our firstborn and the light our lives. He was the first grandchild for Tony's parents and the fifth for my mom and dad. My parents were not the kind to make subsequent grandchildren less important. Every single one was special.
Jason was a very happy baby. I can still hear his giggle when he was just a baby. I could look in his baby book to get exact times and dates for all important events in his early childhood, but I'm not quite tough enough for that.
He was the perfect baby for two young parents because he was never sick; he was easy to take care; he was very content. I think he was about eight months old when he had his first visit to the dr. for anything other than a well-baby check.
As a child Jason was accident prone, and he had the scars to prove it. About the time he started to school, he figured out that he couldn't run harum scarum though life, and his injuries lessened. I'm pretty sure he would have been diagnosed with ADD if I had ever had him tested, but he soon mellowed out.
He was blessed with teachers who always thought he was great; he wasn't the best student in the class, but he was well-behaved, courteous, and cooperative.
It was always a joke with his elementary teachers that he would volunteer me to make cookies for every special day.
He loved horses. From very early in his life, it was obvious to us that he was going to be much more interested in horses than he was in sports. He wanted to spend as much time as possible with his granddad and was blessed with a man who made it possible for him to spend part of every summer with him.
We moved to Tecumseh between 8th and 9th grade, and he immediately fit in well with a great group of kids.
His highschool years were dedicated to horse shows, pig shows, basketball, and ag activities.
When it came time for college, he tried Northern for a semester but soon transfered to Connor's. The first phone call I got from him after a week at Connor's, he said, "Mom, this place is awesome; everyone here is just like me." I wasn't sure that was such a great thing, but he did well there. He participated on the livestock judging team and traveled all over with them.
His years at OSU were equally special. He worked for Marilyn Franz and trained horses while going to school.
We thought everything was going just as it should when he and Candy married. I had absolutely no doubt in their relationship. I never knew what happened, but the marriage ended after about three years.
After that time he drifted a little. He lived in Stillwater, El Reno, Minco, Drumright, back to Stillwater and then he came home for about eight months. That eight months were some of the most special times in our lives. He attended church with me almost every week. That means so much to me today.
I didn't know why, but I was honored that he wanted to spend time with us and knew that he was welcome.
After he moved to Nebraska, our relationship changed to a phone relationship. He called me the morning of his death, and we had a nice visit. It wasn't long enough from today's viewpoint.
I will miss him for the rest of my days.

Linda

2010-05-31T12:25:00.003-05:00

My oldest sister Linda was one of a kind. She had a pretty rough life, some of it her fault, some not. She was a very young widow and single mother before she was twenty years old, but she finally got things together and made a life for herself and her kids. She also worked at Tinker when her kids were growing up. That meant she left the house early and was away from home about eleven hours a day.
She loved her family; she was generous to a fault. My dad used to say Linda would give away her last dime. Her life was full of struggles: financial, health, personal, but one thing was certain, she belonged to the Lord.
When she was in the hospital before she died, I spent more time with her than I had in years. We had many conversations about the regrets that she lived with. I kept reminding her that they were covered in the blood, but she would bring them up again.
Of all of my family members who are now in heaven, I'm most assured that Linda is living it up. Here on earth she had lost her eyesight, was bound in a wheelchair because of crippling arthritis, lived with constant pain. Now I envision her walking upright and seeing God's creation with perfect vision and completely pain free.
Linda loved to cook; that's the thing I miss most. I could call her and ask for a recipe or how to cook something, and she was ready with the instructions. She loved having her grandchildren around. When Crystal, Erica, and Allison were little, they loved going to Nan's to spend the day with her. They made crafts and cooked; she made their days special.
I still have Christmas ornaments that she made. They always make me smile because usually there was something not quite right about them. Linda couldn't see to make them perfect. One of them has a deer glued into a large acorn. The deer is backward. When I'm putting the ornaments on the tree, I get to laugh every year about how tickled we all got about that. We called her Linda Magoo.

My Daddy

2010-05-29T12:22:00.002-05:00

Some men were meant to be called father, some dad, some pops, but daddy is the only name that really fit my dad. He later became Pa to the grand kids, and that fit, but we called him daddy.
He was tough, he worked hard, he loved his family, he did what was right, he was generous, he was kind, he loved our momma, he loved the Lord in a childlike faith.
I didn't always appreciate him when I was a kid. He was grouchy and a stick-in-the-mud. He always said he would rather eat a bologna sandwich at home than to go out to dinner, but he went when mom insisted. When we went to the Grand Canyon, he said, "Well, it looks just like it does on tv." That made me crazy. I have never understood that way of thinking. If there's an option for me to see a ballgame live or on tv, I'll take the live experience every time. I'd rather go to a concert than to watch a performance on television, but not my dad. He loved his television and was very content just watching the world through that little box. This served him well in his later years because he never got bored.
I'm always shocked at the number of times I refer to the things I learned from my dad. He taught by example, and I never even realized I was paying attention.
He loved to garden and expected us to love his produce. If he called to tell us that corn was ready, he meant that he expected you to come and get your share immediately. That never really went over very well, but we pretty much did what he asked all our lives.
He was a master craftsman. He could take a piece of wood and make a beautiful piece of furniture our of it. My prized possessions are the five-piece panel doors in my kitchen that Daddy made by hand.
-Daddy used to do work for many families in Shawnee that caused him to develop a relationship with all the family. Their kids all loved him. One story that reveals the thoughtfulness and kindness of my father was when one of the little boys who was missing a hand because of a lawnmower accident was trying to play cards with his friends. Daddy saw what trouble he was having, so he went home that night and made card stands for all of the kids so that the little boy wouldn't feel singled out.
Acts like that endeared him to the families he worked for.
-When I was a kid, we had a cocker spaniel named Curly. Curly was fat like cockers sometimes get, so when we went to the cellar, Curly couldn't breath in the enclosed space. Daddy would put Curly up on the top shelf of the canned vegetables and hold him up there so that he could put his head out the vent and breathe.
-Daddy had to be the "head-of-household" for my sisters for many years while they were single parents. He never complained about having to fix the things that fell apart in both of their houses.
-Daddy served in WWII in the Army. He never really talked about the war much except to say that the reason he took a shower and shaved every night before going to bed was because when he was in the Philippines, they didn't have good water to drink much less bathe. He considered it a privilege to go to bed clean every night. He also said he did it for mom because he worked hard all day, and she shouldn't have to sleep next to a sweaty old man.
-Daddy made stilts for all the kids in our neighborhood one summer. That was the funniest sight. Kids of all ages walking around on stilts up and down the street. I'll bet visitors thought they had stumbled onto a strange place on East Washington in Tecumseh.
-Daddy was a good neighbor. He may not have had much in common with the people who lived around him, but they would all say that Nate was a good neighbor. He was not nosey, he was willing to help if needed, he kept his place up. Probably the only thing he could be criticized for in the neighborhood was his old rusted pickup. For Daddy a pickup was a tool to be used for work. His never got pampered; he seldom had a new one; his was always very utilitarian, no fancy gadgets. It probably didn't do much for the look of the neighborhood.
-He hated being home alone. When we were kids, if Daddy couldn't work because of bad weather, we always knew he would come and get us at school. That was awesome. It didn't happen very often, so those days were really special. He always said he couldn't rest with a cellar in the backyard when we were in that big old school.
-He loved his grand kids. He was proud of his family. He was a good son to his parents. He was a good brother to his siblings. He was a wonderful uncle to both his and mom's side of the family.
-He was a talker. I get my garrulousness from him. OK, that may not have been such a great legacy.
-A story that tells volumes about what it was like to be his daughter took place when I was in high school. I went to play practice which was over at 10:00. I went to the Ruby Dee (local drive-in) and started hanging out with some kids that were there. I was sitting in the back seat of a friend's car when he looked in his rearview mirror and said, "Debbie, is that your dad?"
Daddy tapped on the window and said, "Sis, it's time to come home." No drama, no scene. None was necessary, but I assure you I always went straight home after that.
He was solid. I always felt safe when Dad was in the house.

Remembering Phyllis

2010-05-28T07:23:00.002-05:00

My sister Phyllis was the best person I've ever known. She was eight when I was born and took her spot as the baby of the family. I don't think she was too thrilled about that, but as the years passed, we became very close. She married young, had Janna a few years later, divorced a couple of years after that, and then she moved back home with Janna when I was about sixteen. I remember thinking she was the best mom I had ever witnessed. Her every move kept Janna in mind. I remember my parents having to tell her that she needed to go out and have a social life. She went to work at Tinker and made a good living for herself and Janna. Later she bought a home in Tecumseh and settled in to thinking that she would always be a single mom.
Boy did things change. After we moved to Wellston, we met Fred Coulson, the industrial arts teacher. Fred was also divorced and a single dad. We introduced them and then let them handle the rest. It took a couple of years, but soon they married, Phyllis and Janna moved to Wellston, and Marty and Monty moved in with their dad. All of the sudden Phyllis had three kids. They lived in a tiny two bedroom trailer while Fred and Tony built their house. I tried to cook a meal at my house and take it to their house every evening so that Tony and Fred could work. That was a long, drawn-out process, but they survived. They came in and stayed with us for a couple of weeks. I can't remember today why, but I remember all of us trying to get ready for school with one bathroom. That was quite an experience.
Later, we stayed with them while our water was off when our kitchen was being remodeled. Believe me our kids were much happier about these sleepovers than any of us, but we made it.
After the house was built, life settled in to 4-H, Ag, basketball, FHA, softball...do you see the trend? All of their life was wrapped around their kids. There were some really rocky times, but they came out on the other side a family of great love and faith.
When Carson was born, Phyllis fell immediately in love. She adored Jason and Allison, but for some reason (maybe it was her age) she couldn't get enough of Carson. She visited after work every chance she got and would just sit and rock him, spoil him, and love him.
It was only two years later that Evan was born. It all became clear; she was practicing being a Granny on Carson. By the time Evan was here, she was a pro at spoiling a kid. She continued in that capacity through Chelsea, Cortney, McKinley, Halle, Savana, Maddox, and if she had lived, McCoy. I still get angry when I think of her life being cut short by pulmonary fibrosis, a lung disease caused by exposure to chemicals at Tinker Field. Her grandkids were all so young and should have had many, many years of being loved by their granny.
During her extended illness, she suffered so much but kept her sense-of-humor and faith. She became so strong in the Lord and many times would comfort us because she knew how much emotional pain her illness caused us.
When I think of her sense-of-humor, I remember her getting tickled. She would get so tickled that she couldn't talk at all. The funny thing is that she and I could get tickled together just remembering one of those times. Once we were driving down the road, and I looked at her and realized that one of her lenses was out of her sunglasses. She was completely oblivious to the fact, so I got tickled, then she got tickled. We could never tell that story to anyone without losing full control. I guess you had to be there.
During her illness Phyllis repeated the verse "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." I never see that verse without thinking of her valiant battle for life.
A couple of years before her death, Fred took her to Graceland. Now I had been a couple of times and was glad to go, but to Phyllis Graceland was very special. She was an Elvis fan to the core. She stumbled and fell and hurt her arm before she got to go in, but like the trooper she was, she went in anyway. All of her pictures show her holding her arm and smiling. Later that night she went to the ER and found out that her arm was broken. Prednisone had weakened her bones and made her vulnerable to breaks.
There's so much more I could say about her, but I'd have to write a book to pay the kind of tribute to her that I feel is appropriate.
If my mom is the voice in my head, Phyllis is the amen to that voice. She left a void in so many lives when she died.
I was with her when Dr. Huff told her that she wasn't going to leave the hospital. She was so courageous; I asked her if she was scared. She shook her head. No she wasn't scared, she was going to get to see Mom.
I've never know anyone who hung on to life so hard; most people would have been bitter and angry, but she wasn't. She could do all things through Christ who strengthened her.

Remembering Mom

2010-05-27T17:12:00.004-05:00

I have made it very certain to anyone that knows me that I owe more than even I know to my mom's influence. Mom was older than most of my friend's moms. She was thirty-three when I was born, so she had already had so much parenting experience by the time I was around that our relationship was effortless.
I was such a brat. Mom went to work at Montgomery Ward's when I was in the fourth grade. I was worried because Mom was our Campfire Leader. Guess what, we had Campfire at our house on her day off, every Monday afternoon. I don't think I had any idea what exactly that meant until I became a mom and thought about giving up part of my only day off each week for a bunch of silly girls. That didn't last long because mom became the head cashier very quickly and then had Saturday's off. She had a perfect job in a retail chain. She worked eight to five, no weekends, no holidays, but she had so much responsibility. After she retired, used to tell me that if she ever applied for another job, she wanted one with no responsibility. She was probably what is called today a Human Resources person. She took care of payroll (cash envelopes every Wednesday) and daily deposits. She took care of insurance and personnel. Even though she was not in management, many of the employees considered her their boss. Not bad for someone who only finished tenth grade. She was very smart. After she retired, she worked seasonally for H&R Block, she took care of my grandparents and had Grandpa move in with them after Grandma died, she kept Carson and Evan, and then she went to work at the daycare at church. She was still working there until she got so sick she was walking down the hall and holding on to the wall. She said it kept her mind off of herself.
When I think about her life, I always feel that she never got to just enjoy being free. She always had someone to take care of, but that was her gift.
She was a great mom, but she was a terrific Granny. Her grandchildren were her focus in a very healthy way. She wasn't the type to feel the need to stick her nose in to their business, but because of who she was and how she interracted with them, they included her in their lives.
I used to think that it wasn't a good thing for grandparents to keep their grandkids while their parents worked. That was until Mom started keeping Carson for me. I can't tell you how wonderful it was to drop him off where I knew he would be adored by both Mom and Dad all day. Then there was the added perk of Mom cooking stew or chili or beans or an apple pie and saying, "Why don't you take some of this home with you, your dad and I can't eat all of this." That was AWESOME.
I've tried to be like Mom but will never feel that I am a tenth of the person she was. I was a different kind of mom, but if I ever get to be a grandparent, I intend to be just like her.
One really neat memory was the Christmas that she and Dad bought Atari systems for all the families. My sister-in-law and I left the day after Christmas to go shopping and left Toby, Jason, Brandy, and Allison with Granny. When we got home, the living room was a wreck, toys were everywhere, and Mom was sitting in the floor playing Pacman with the kids. That's exactly the kind of Granny I want to be.
She is the voice in my head, in a very good way.

Memorial Weekend

2010-05-27T14:49:00.003-05:00

This weekend is Memorial Weekend which for most people means the first lake trip or (around here) Alumni weekend. I went to the cemetery this morning to put new flowers out at Mom and Dad's and Jason's graves. Those trips always put me in a strange mood. I'm not especially saddened by the cemetery like I thought I would be; it is clear to me that the place should be honored because of the stones there that honor the dead, but that's all it is. I don't talk to the headstones or think about the remains of my family. The important part of Mom, Daddy, and Jason are not there, so I don't dwell on the physical. What happens is that I think of them and the impact they had on my life. Therefore, I'm going to spend the weekend writing my thoughts about the important people in my life who have already passed.
My first experience with death was when my father-in-law, Fred Humphrey, passed away in 1988. He was such a great man. I always liked him, but I began loving him when Jason was born. He was the best grandad ever. He and Jason had a bond that I'm certain lives on in eternity. He passed on his love and respect for horses that served Jason well throughout his life. Allison was born on his birthday, and that gave them a wonderful connection. Carson was only five months old when he died, so he has no real memories of Grandad. I hope we have told Carson enough that he knows what kind of influence Grandad was on all of us.
I still remember his laugh; it was so infectious. He was a cowboy to the bone and love being around others who loved horses. He was a daily coffee shop visitor and had every waitress in town anxious to take care of him because he knew how to schmooze, a skill he taught Jason.
I loved the way he took care of his mother. She thought he hung the moon and looked forward to his daily visits. He and his sister, Aunt Polly, had an enviable closeness. I always said that I would be pleased if my children were as close in their adult lives and the two of them.
His death changed our family. It makes me very sad that his influence ended too soon. Fifty-eight years is just not enough time on this earth. He would have so loved watching all the grandkids in their high school years. He would have been so proud of Jason and Kirby following in his footsteps into the horse training business.
One thing that is certain though. When a person dies young, he is saved from some of the heartache that we have all had to face. I know that losing Jason would have been too much for him. I guess since God knows that big picture, I have to rely on Him to know what's best.

New music

2010-05-25T20:54:00.002-05:00

I bought a cd last week that has become my new favorite. The singer/songwriter is JJ Heller. On itunes she's listed as folk, but her lyrics are Christian. One line that stands out to me is in the last song. "Hope keeps me holding on to You; Grace means You're holding me too." Isn't that a comforting thought? No matter what we face, we can hold tight to the creator of the universe, and He holds us too.
It seems to me that lately so many of us are having to face such hardships. Daily someone tells me of someone that needs our prayers, and the requests are not for minor issues. Sickness....tornado...oil spill...war...joblessness..the list goes on. All I can recommend is to hold on to Hope. Some situations seem bleak, hopeless, unconquerable, but people of faith remain hopeful. That's what we do.

Year 20 at THS

2010-05-23T16:46:00.002-05:00

Friday I received my twenty year pin from Tecumseh Public Schools. I'm feeling rather weird about the stage of life I'm in. When you grow up the baby of the family and marry someone even a little older than you are, you think you will always be the "youngun." Not true. There's only about three people at school who are older than I am right now. Many of the people I work with are the age of my children, so I have a motherly influence in their lives. It happened so fast; I went from being in the middle of my career to nearing the end. I would like to teach full-time for two more years until my National Board Certification expires, and then I really want to retire from full-time but continue to teach half days. That sounds like a great plan, but if life has taught me anything, it is this. I can make all the plans I want to, but things will happen the way they are meant to happen.
I hear parents today say the same thing I said when my kids were growing up. When they entered school, I couldn't believe that time had gone by so fast. When they graduated, I couldn't believe that time had gone by so fast. Now that they are adults, I'm saying that time is going by too fast.
Who savors every moment? According to Thornton Wilder in Our Town, the saints and poets maybe. I want to live like a saint or poet. I want to make the most of my life, every minute, every hour, every day. I don't want to waste the time God has given me.

Lessons from a Tornado

2010-05-11T19:30:00.002-05:00

All my life I've heard the Indian Legend that Tecumseh would never be hit by a tornado because it sits between two rivers. Well, last night that legend was proven false. My town was hit and hit hard. We went to the cellar for the first time since we've lived back here. On several occasions we have gathered in our living room with Randy and Cindy and our family and waited out a storm. We always have been able to avoid going to the cellar, but last night we went. Almost immediately after it went over the house, everything cleared up. We headed to town to see if Gigi and Aunt Polly were ok. Aunt Polly's house had considerable damage, so we went to work getting a tarp on the house and getting her out to Randy and Cindy's. Gigi went to the shelter in the Housing Authority neighborhood. She was fine. The tornado hit Little Axe, Pink, skipped us, hit a couple of places between here and town, and then it took out a great portion of the south side of Tecumseh. It hit Barnard school and damaged three classrooms. It hit the board of education office and bus barn and completely wiped out a couple of neighborhoods.
We did what we could last night and then began work early this morning. We would be working hard and then look up and see people helping that we haven't seen in quite a while. One lady stopped and said she was headed to the grocery store and asked if we needed anything. All morning long we worked and worked and worked. It didn't take long until we were seeing a light at the end of today's tunnel.
When we finished at Aunt Polly's, we helped her nieces and nephews on the O'Neal side clean up their mom's house. Their mom passed away around Easter, so they are having to clean up her house much sooner than they thought. Her house had so much more damage than Aunt Polly's, but when dozens of hands are working, progress is quick.
Now, this is what I learned from this tornado.
1. Cold water is my friend. I went to the grocery store and bought two cases this morning. Nothing is as refreshing as really cold water when you are hot and tired, and the humidity is 90%.
2. People are weird. I was absolutely amazed at the sight-seers. Never in my wildest dreams would I drive to another city that has been hit by a tornado and drive around take pictures.
3. People are wonderful. I was also amazed at the kindness of so many people. Many of them worked at her house until they saw that we had things under control. Then they went on to help someone else. The Pentecostal Church of God set us a kitchen to feed those who needed a meal. The story is that they plan to feed 750 for breakfast in the morning. Harrah Church where I attend also has been set up as a shelter and are providing food, clothing, and a cool cup of water to those in need.
4. Nature is in control. We can use precautions, we can plan, and we can plot, and we can think that we have things in our control, but days like yesterday remind me that we are not in control. There was nothing we could have done yesterday to protect the property that was damaged.
5. Most Oklahomans are smart and respect the weather. We have the very best weather service in the nation. The National Weather Service in Norman will give us a time-table that tells the exact minute that the tornado will hit our town. We know how to protect our lives in the face of a tornado. There were some fatalities, but compared to the numbers in other states, our fatality rate is very low.
6. God is good. I didn't really learn this today, but it is a truth that needs repeating.

Thank you Beth Moore

2010-05-01T17:06:00.003-05:00

I'm almost finished with Beth Moore's So Long, Insecurity. I arrived home from the funeral today and decided to rest and read for a few minutes. This is the passage that I started with:

God has promised that His grace will be given according to our need and that not only will we survive by the skin of our teeth, if we trust Him and hang on to Him for dear life--grieving, yes, but as those who have hope--we will also thrive again. We can give ourselves to something greater than painlessness. We can give ourselves to purpose. If we cooperate, good will indeed come to us and others around us, and glory will most assuredly come to God. Otherwise, He would have forbidden the tragedy. Those of us who are in Christ will also spend eternity with the loved ones who have shared our faith, and this life will seem like a vapor in comparison.

That, along with the loving service today, was just what I needed.

I Feel line Emmeline Grangerford

2010-04-30T21:11:00.003-05:00

If you aren't familiar with The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, my allusion will mean nothing to you. Emmeline Grangerford is a character in the novel. Huck meets the feuding Grangerford family and becomes acquainted with the "tributes" Emmeline wrote about people who had passed.
I don't know how I got the job of writing "tributes" for so many people, but I have to sit still long enough tonight to write another one. My former boss, James Blue, left this life Wednesday morning at 10:40. He fought harder to stay alive than anyone I know, but cancer won the war.
The memories of Mr. Blue have been rushing through my mind for the past three days.
I first talked to him on the phone when Jason was a freshman. We had received a grade card or progress report that had Jason missing several classes. Of course, Jason told me it was a computer error, and I wanted to believe him, but I just had to make that call. Poor Mr. Blue. I was accustomed to a small school where I knew every teacher that my kids had and always knew exactly what days my kids were absent. He so tried to reassure me that Jason was indeed going to class. I remember my interview with him and Charlie Shields back in the summer of 1990. I wanted to get a job closer to home, but I'm wondering if he recommended me for the job so that he wouldn't have to endure any more calls from me. If I was in the building, I would know where Jason was and wouldn't expect him to keep me posted.
I'm just going to list some important facts about James Blue that made him special.
-He love to laugh (at himself). He and Roy Capps would head out to a football or basketball game and get lost. Now assuredly no one would have had to know, but they would tell it. I sponsored cheerleaders and would be at an away game, and here would saunter in Mr. Blue and Mr. Capps. They had been 30 miles out of the way and roaming around trying to find the field or the gym. They must have left home early I guess because they made it by gametime. They needed a Garmin.
-His door was always open. I used to go in early in the morning and visit with him sometimes. I think back to that now and think that he may have come in early to get work done, but there was a steady stream of teachers coming in to visit. Our visits were usually about our kids. He listened to me tell about Carson's games, and later I listened to him tell about his grandson's games.
-His teachers' meetings were hilarious. One of the things I used to like to do is watch the faces of new teachers at the first meeting of the year. We all loved the man, but he was no public speaker. He would ramble through the meeting and tell stories and try to tell jokes, and we would get so tickled. I so wish we had videotaped one; you just had to witness it to understand.
-He loved practical joke--as long as it didn't go too far. He participated in one we all tried to pull on Jennifer McKnight. The problem was it backfired and Jennifer Cox ended up leaving in tears. Let's just say we didn't do that again.
He wasn't very happy with us.
-He was a good sport. If you ever went to graduation at Tecumseh, you witnessed that. The custom has been for the graduates to hand Mr. Blue something as they shook hands with him. He would keep a box on the floor right by him to put the items in. My favorite years were the ones when they discreetly handed him something. Jason's class handed him Payday candy bars because they had seen him eat a Payday for lunch for four years. Carson's class handed him Walmart gift cards. All of them were empty except one. One had $50.00 on it. Someone told me that he gave that one as a door prize the next year when we went back to school. I didn't win, so I didn't remember. Even the years when the gift wasn't discreet, he was a good sport. One year the students put stickers all over his suit jacket; Allison's class gave him Mardi Gras beads, and he would just grin and take it. I know he hated it, but he just stood there.
-His expectations were high. To visit with him and hear his self-deprecating humor, you would never believe how particular he was. On the day before a North Central visit, our committee was sitting around a table in the conference room looking over the book that would be given to the visiting committee the next day. Gail Sams, the journalist, looked up and said, "How do you spell excellence?" We had put a footer on every page of the book that said "Excellence in Education." The only problem was that on about 15 pages, excellence was spelled excellance. We finally figured out that it was only on the pages that had color charts. When you looked at the page on the computer screen, the footer was so small that you couldn't read the error. Some people would have let it go, but not Mr. Blue. We stayed for several hours and disassembled and reassembled those books. Cindy Hale was on her way out for an anniversary dinner, and we called her to come and help us. Mr. Blue didn't ask us to stay, but we knew that if we didn't, he would have stayed by himself.
-His mind was incredible when it came to scheduling. It makes me think of the computer programmer who knows math so well that he can do in his head what he tells the computer to do. I guess he had built the master schedule on the big board so many times that he could see problems that the rest of us didn't see. He knew the ramifications of changing a planning period or scheduling an honors class a particular hour. He accomodated the kids not the teachers, which is the way it should be.
-He was respected-by teachers, by students, and by parents. You may not have liked his all of his decisions, but you knew he made them fairly and consistently. His leadership for 24 years put us in a position to continue and improve THS in his absence.
Tomorrow his funeral will be held at Raley Chapel at OBU. There is no more fitting place for this service. For almost twenty years, Mr. Blue stood on the stage and called out the names of graduates; he shook their hands and smiled at them as they crossed the stage. Their success was his success.

Know Greater Love

2010-04-25T16:07:00.002-05:00

I don't know why I felt led to share this today, but the idea won't leave me, so there must be someone out there in cyberspace who needs to read it. It is my testimony for a book that my church publishes every year or so with members' stories of redemption and healing.

When I was asked to write an entry for Know Greater Love, I knew I had a testimony, but I didn’t know how I could make it valuable for others. I have known many tragedies and maintained my faith, but I’m still in the grieving process. My oldest son Jason was killed in a tragic one-vehicle accident on Sept. 20, 2008. His death was the fifth death in my immediate family in thirteen years, so I know how to grieve; the question is do I know how to stop grieving?
I finally decided to make this a tribute to my mother, Mabel Rider, the person who died thirteen years before Jason’s death. I attribute my spiritual strength and survival directly to her example. Did I ever see my mother lose a child? No. I did see her lose a seven-year-old niece to leukemia and two sisters, and I witnessed her rejoicing that their troubles and illnesses were over and that they were in heaven. How did she equip me for my grief-filled life? She lived a Christ-centered life and displayed a faith that was inspirational to me. She set a standard of faith that has allowed me to experience the unthinkable and maintain a love for God. She accepted life’s challenges with grace and faith and made sure that I knew that this life is a dress rehearsal for eternity. This was her legacy to me.
Her compassion was an example to me and my family throughout her life. One memory that stands out vividly for me is from when my seventy-year-old mother and I went to the Free Will Baptist National Convention many years ago. The night of the missionary service, which is usually the largest of the convention’s services, the venue next to us was having a Guns and Roses concert. The variety of people walking to the convention was a sight to behold. There were men and women in suits and dresses walking along side young people in black with pierced faces, tattoos, etc. You get the picture. As we were driving to the parking garage, we saw a young woman who appeared intoxicated, wearing an outfit that was quite risqué. I was so proud that my ten-year-old daughter and her friends heard my mother say, “Bless her Heart” instead of “Well, I never.” She remains the voice in my head. As our sermon series on the family taught us, it is never too late to be an example to your children.
I was born the fourth child in my family; my siblings were twelve, ten, and eight years old, so you can imagine how rotten I was. If you had watched the dynamic in my family from a distance, you probably would not have liked me very much. I was spoiled and the center of attention. I didn’t have to cook because my older sisters could do that, so my job was to set the table and clear the table. During Saturday cleaning, my jobs were to dust the furniture and clean the mirrors. It was my sisters who cleaned the kitchen and bathrooms and who did the laundry. I even remember sitting in the kitchen talking to my sister Phyllis while she was cooking dinner, but I never offered to help. She admitted when we were adults that she couldn’t stand me until Jason was born. She loved him so much that she was willing to put up with me. She was my idol, but I was so self-centered that I couldn’t understand at all why she would get so angry and frustrated with me.
I went to church with my mother for as long as I can remember. My dad wasn’t a Christian, but he was a very good man. Honest and dependable, he was the kind of man who is most difficult to reach because he lived a decent life, much more decent than some of the men in our church. I rejoice in the fact that Daddy was saved and baptized (by Brother Delbert) at age seventy.
I was saved when I was eight and continued to attend church throughout my years living at home. I was a smart teenager because I knew that as long as I would go to church on Sunday morning, Sunday night, and Wednesday night, I was pretty much allowed all the freedom that was customary in the early seventies. I pushed the limits of that freedom during my teenage years, and as I had been warned many times, “I found myself in places I didn’t want to be, with people I didn’t want to be with, doing things I didn’t want to do.” My mother continued to pray for me and love me unconditionally even when I wasn’t very lovable.
It was during those years of rebellion that I made major decisions of my life. I married my husband Tony who had been my early high school sweetheart. We reconnected when I began college. After we married, he finished college while I worked, and then he supported me until I received my degree. Our oldest child Jason was born in 1975, and Allison was born in 1980.
I continued to go my own way until I was twenty-seven. At that time Tony and I had both taught for several years. He was not interested in attending church with us, but I knew in my heart that my children needed to be in church. I don’t think there was a single event that made me realize that the kids and I needed to be in church. I took them to VBS one summer and saw how much they both liked it. It brought to mind my childhood experiences of church camp, VBS, Sunday School, and the Holy Spirit reminded me of the responsibility I had to continue my mother’s legacy to them. Jason was already seven, and Allison was almost three, and the only time we went to church up to that point was when we were visiting my parents. Later we had another son, Carson, who attended church from the first week of his birth. I was involved in all church activities, sang in the choir, taught Sunday School, taught and directed VBS, went on church trips, camp, etc. I think watching my mother do all these things made me realize that it was ok for a woman who attended church without her husband to be involved. I always watched carefully for warning signs of resentment from Tony so that he wouldn’t be angry that we were so involved. I really think he liked that his children were involved in church; he knew from teaching school that church attendance made a difference in his students’ behavior. All three of our children were saved and baptized when they were young.
I’ve said all this to get to the point of my testimony. My mother died July 10, 1996. At that time both of my sisters were in very compromised health, and my brother lived hours away. Guess what? That spoiled little brat who never had to do the hard jobs suddenly became the caregiver for her father. I didn’t have time to grieve Mom’s death because Daddy had a stroke two weeks after she died, and he lost the use of his right hand. Fortunately, his overall health was good, but he needed daily help. For seven years I went to see Daddy every day all the while teaching full-time, and supporting Allison and Carson in their activities.
At the time of my mother’s death, my sister Phyllis had just been diagnosed with pulmonary fibrosis. Her health deteriorated over the next few years, and my grief at watching her suffer and die was the worst thing I had ever experienced. She had been exposed to a chemical in her job at Tinker Field that caused her illness. Even though the government paid worker’s compensation to her, no amount of money could give her the good health that had been taken away. After years of suffering, Phyllis died on Dec. 19, 2002 at age 55. I have never been so angry in my life. I was mad at God, the federal government, Phyllis’s ex-husband (for causing her to have to go to work in the shops at Tinker many years earlier) her doctors, the pharmaceutical industry, anyone who had a part in her illness and death. I think my anger distorted my grief during that time. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that my sister was in heaven, but I wanted her here with her family. She left her husband, children, very young grandchildren along with my dad who only lived ten months after her death. Daddy died after having a massive stroke on Sept. 30, 2003. Phyllis’s early death was too much for his eighty-three-year-old heart, and his grief at losing a child was just too much to bear. The one thing I could rejoice in was that Mom wasn’t here to suffer the loss of her child or husband.
My oldest sister Linda had been in poor health for many years. She was overweight, legally blind, and suffered from crippling arthritis. I really never expected her to reach old age. She died in August of 2005 after an extended illness. By this time Carson and I were attending Harrah Church.
The year after Carson graduated from high school, Jason returned to the nest for several months. He had gotten a divorce a few years earlier and had been drifting a little, so we were glad to have him home. He stayed from February through November of 2007, months that I consider to be the greatest gift God has ever given me. During those months Jason also attended Harrah Church with me. He loved the music, the preaching, and our small group, Total Body. Remember the Easter Sunday that Jimmy preached about baggage? I watched as my son wrote something down and took it to the front and placed it in the trunk that Jimmy burned that very day. Some kind of baggage that he had been carrying around was gone. During the months he lived with us, Jason and I spent time together, exercising, cooking, going to movies; he helped us with Relay for Life of Tecumseh. Tony, Jason, and I watched OSU basketball, and went out to dinner every Friday. We got to know Jason, the 32-year-old man. The last time he had spent any time at all at home was when he was 21, the summer between Connor’s and OSU.
Jason was a “sure nuff” cowboy. Tony’s dad was a professional cutting horse trainer and taught Jason as soon as he could sit a saddle. Jason spent his childhood competing in cutting horse competitions. During high school he was Oklahoma’s state champion cutter two years and competed in the National High School Finals Rodeo in Shawnee. Cutting is a cow-calf event. The horse and rider “cuts” a calf out of a herd and then the horse goes to work to keep the calf from returning to the herd. Jason was a natural at training because he respected the animals he worked with and had learned from his granddad how to train the horses. He worked and lived during college on a ranch near Stillwater where he continued to learn the craft. He spent most of his adult life training cutting horses. He completed his degree from OSU in Animal Science, but he was really only content when he was training horses. One of the things I learned after his death is that he had trained a American Quarter Horse Association World champion while he worked in Stillwater. A man who owned the horse wrote me a letter to describe his experience of competing on the horse that Jason trained as a two-year- old. I will always wonder why he didn’t share that with us.
A couple whom he attended college with were living on her father’s ranch in Nebraska. They had begged Jason to come up there and train for them. The ranch is a large cattle operation, but they had always dabbled in horses a little. They had an indoor heated practice arena and the means to buy good horses. He really didn’t want to go so far away from home, but it was an offer he couldn’t refuse. In November of 2007, he moved into the ranch house in Nebraska.
He lived and worked on the ranch until his death in Sept. of 2008. Up until that time, I had only thought I had experienced grief. When we received the “knock” at 3:00 in the morning on Sept. 21, and learned that Jason had not survived a roll-over accident, I hit the floor. My legs would not hold me up. At that very moment, my cousin Becky who lives in Tulsa, woke up feeling the need to pray. She didn’t know who for, but God did, so she prayed, and I stood up.
I’m still standing; over a year has gone by, and I miss him just as much today as I did during the first few weeks, but I am able to talk about him and remember the great kid he was and the great man he became. The out-pouring of love and support from the people of Harrah Church, Tecumseh, Stillwater, and Gordon, Nebraska spoke volumes to me. My son was dearly loved by many. After his funeral, Tony’s comment of “I am at peace” reflected the sentiments of us all. As a family we are determined to honor Jason’s life by remaining strong and united. My children miss their brother; Tony and I miss our son, but we will not let our loss define us. I feel a great responsibility to pass on the legacy that my mother began. The strength of enduring faith is all that has sustained me. My family is watching me, not just my husband and children, but my brother and all of my nieces and nephews. They must see Jesus in me. They must see me living a life that is confident that Jason will be a part of my eternity.
During this past year I have recalled multiple conversations I had with Mom in the last year of her life. She had to go to a doctor in OKC every Wednesday for the last months of her life, and I had the privilege of taking her. She shared her faith with me, and surprisingly, she also told me of her doubts. Her honesty was so refreshing to me because I have always been too logical for my own good. My logical nature sometimes caused me to doubt my religious teachings, but I never dreamed that my mother also had those doubts.
Because of the events of the past year, my doubts have lessened. I have witnessed God’s working in many ways to remind me that this life is temporary and that I will spend eternity with Mom, Dad, Phyllis, Linda, and Jason. We’re on a break right now, and while I’m down here with the struggles and joys of this life, they are in heaven with only joy.
What does my story teach the readers? My mother could not have guessed how much I would need to rely on God during my lifetime. The important thing is that she equipped me to survive whatever came my way by providing a spiritual legacy for me to draw from. None of us know what our children will face in their lifetimes. We all owe them a spiritual backbone so that they will stand throughout life’s hardships.

April 19, 1995

2010-04-19T22:32:00.002-05:00

Today is the 15th anniversary of the Oklahoma City Bombing. Just as with all other huge events that we all remember where we were, I was in school.
I was in 3rd grade when Kennedy was assassinated.
I was teaching when the Challenger blew up.
I was teaching when my friend Patty was killed in the Edmond Post Office massacre.
I was teaching when the Murrah Building was bombed.
I was teaching on 9/11.
I'm telling you there is no worse place to be when a tragedy happens. Teenagers are highly emotional or unemotional. Some are overly sensitive and take on the tragedy as though they were victims themselves, or they act like jerks because they don't know what to do with their emotions.
Teachers cry. We try not to; we try to keep it together, but we can't. Watching footage of a building that has been blown up and not knowing how something like this could happen in America brings tears that can't be held back.
I remember so well getting a call from Teresa who told me that Anna Marie's sister, Jamie, worked in the Federal Credit Union and had not been heard from. I had already thought of Jamie because I knew that she worked in a credit union, but I never dreamed she worked in that one. Her body was recovered 21 days later--an eternity to the family.
Today I thought of her kids. Kyle was an 8th grader; Krista, a fifth grader. They were robbed that day of a young beautiful mom who loved them to distraction.
I thought of Anna Marie. She has children that never got to meet Aunt Jamie, how sad. I thought of Jamie's parents and her other siblings. I know that pain. I can't really imagine that 15 years is going to change the grief much. I know the family has had good times since Jamie's death, but I also know that every big event has a pall over it. Proms, graduations, weddings, births, among others have all happened without her. Because Allison was the same age as Kyle, I always thought of him when we were having our milestone events.
I watched a news report tonight about Timothy McVeigh, the OKC bomber. He showed absolutely no remorse all the way to his death. From all accounts he was a fairly normal child, claimed he was bullied by jocks in high school, went to the military and became a monster.
I think it was Tom Brokaw that said of the bomber. The worst thing that could happen to him is to develop a conscience; I don't think it ever happened.

Easter

2010-04-04T21:03:00.003-05:00

Easter Sunday is special. It's not special because of eggs, bunnies, or chocolate; it's not special because of ham, potatoes, or deviled eggs. It's special because it commemorates the most important event in Christian history. Jesus is alive!!!
Without the resurrection, Jesus is just like the other prophets. Without the resurrection, we are all doomed.
Church was packed this morning, and all the elements of the service were excellent. The music was incredible, the baptism videos and baptisms were inspiring, and as always, Jimmy's sermon was just what a message from God should be. A new addition to the service was a video from a brave young lady who shared her testimony with the church. She exhibited such courage. Most of us are not brave enough to bare our souls on a video that will be played in front of two people much less 500 people, but this brave young lady exposed herself to the congregation with one thought in mind--maybe my story will help someone who has traveled a similar road. If you don't attend Harrah Church, you can watch the service and video on harrahchurch.com.
This afternoon Allison and Carson, Gigi and Aunt Polly came out for dinner, but Tony and I cooked the entire meal. It's sad when Aunt Polly can't contribute to the meal; she's just not up to it right now. I know the kids were disappointed that there were no dumplings or macaroni and cheese. When someone has a speciality, it just doesn't work for someone else to bring it. The ladies left very soon after the meal, Carson went fishing, and Tony, Allison and I napped on and off, and I read while Tony watched basketball, golf, horseracing. You know how you can hear what's on television while you are napping. I'm going to just say that golf is the only sport that allows a good nap. The announcers whisper and let you sleep. The call of the horse race is the most annoying. Any kind of ballgame is in between, so my nap was strange. I would sleep and dream for a few minutes and then wake up and read a chapter, and then fall back asleep. I'm not sure what this means for tonight, but I'll take a Tylenol PM just in case.
This is much different from the Easters from earlier years. No egg hunt, no frilly dresses, the Easter bunny bought Carson a tank of gas and gave Allison some t-shirts.
He still bought some candy and colored some eggs, more for me than for anyone else.
Janna called this afternoon and told me that she had her mom's videos put on DVD. The first one Fred tried to watch was of Easter at my mom and dad's when Evan and Carson were little. Phyllis was taping, Jason was hiding eggs, mom and dad were watching, and Carson and Evan were hunting eggs. Only Carson and Evan are still living. I doubt I'll ever be able to watch that tape; I may not be able to watch any of them. I have the memories vividly stored in my mind.
I have to return to the beginning of this post. Easter is special; without Easter morning--my sorrow would be overwhelming-hopeless, but with Easter morning, I can rest assured that this life is just a few years. I'll see them all again.

Deer

2010-03-28T21:02:00.002-05:00

Carson hit a deer last night and did some real damage to his truck. It seems to me that almost everyone I talk to has had an experience with a deer on the road. They are everywhere.
Now we have to go through the hassle of insurance, rental vehicle, cancelation, rates rising, blah, blah, blah. The funny thing is that it is more troubling to him than it is to his dad and me. I'm not saying it doesn't worry us because we have a high deductible, but we have learned what is important, and it is not money. Carson is safe; his truck can be fixed; that's all that concerns us.
That doesn't mean I slept well last night. My mind was racing through "worst case scenerios." What happens if his truck can't be fixed? What if they cancel us? What if they raise our rates? What if? What if? Those words aren't very comforting. My human fears and worries overtake me sometimes. This week I'll have to search scripture for the words that bring peace.
I have done what I can at this point. I have talked to the insurance company, given them permission to talk to Carson personally and assured him that all will be well. The rest is out of my hands. The rest is out of my hands. The rest is out of my hands.

Gripe, gripe, gripe

2010-03-25T19:20:00.002-05:00

We are a gripping generation. We gripe about everything. Today my gripe is over a stupid prescription that costs $120. a month to lower blood pressure. Paying that much made my blood pressure rise to a dangerous level. The first prescription I tried did not lower my bp; the second one made me cough; this one makes me gripe. I know, I should be thankful that there is a drug that will work for me; I know, I should be thankful that I have $120. a month to spend on medicine. I have no idea which side of the healthcare debate I'm on because I haven't read the bill, but something needs to be changed.
I've brought this up a few times in the last twenty-four hours and heard a story from my friend whose dad takes a $400/mo. prescription and four moms who are unable to afford the medication prescribed for their children for chronic allergies because the prescription would be $200/mo. Now these moms are not out-of-work, down-on-their-luck single moms who are struggling to raise their children. These people are college graduates, married, two-income households who have health insurance. These prices are after insurance has paid. One of them said that although her son had tried multiple over-the-counter allergy medicines, he was still suffering from seasonal allergies, so his doctor prescribed something that would work. The insurance company that this family pays $600./month to for their two sons' coverage denied the claim because "over-the-counter" meds are available for treatment. As she said, they've never seen her son, they're based in Chicago; however, they override the physician who has seen him. Jason and Carson both suffered from seasonal allergies. It's so difficult to watch your kid go off to school knowing that they were going to be miserable all day with allergy symptoms.
OK, I've done my griping; do you think my blood pressure is back to normal?

Would have been

2010-03-18T16:31:00.002-05:00

Today would have been Jason's 35th birthday. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, I hate those words...would have been...should have been...he wasn't supposed to leave so soon.
I slept well last night which is rare for me. Since I had traveled home from skiing all day yesterday, I was pretty tired. I guess I need to completely exhaust myself so that I can sleep through the night. Tony and I went to Norman, had a wonderful lunch at Saltgrass, stopped in at Walmart to get fishing lures. Then I came home and got flowers ready for the cemetery. I'm keeping orange flowers out there all the time except at Christmas. Someday some OSU student of horticulture will create an orange poinsettia and then the silk flower makers will provide them so that I can keep orange out there year round.
Tony went fishing while I went to the cemetery. We handle things completely differently; I really get that. I came home and worked in my flower beds to get them ready for April. I just heard on the weather that we're going to get a huge snow this weekend. It's funny; I love snow on a mountain, but we've had plenty this year. I'm ready for spring, real spring. Tony blamed the fact that the ponds were too full on his not catching fish earlier. That's a first.
Tomorrow Carson and Nick are coming out to fish, watch OSU basketball, and of course, eat dinner with us. That will be a perfect end to a nice break from school. Monday we start that final eight weeks of school. These weeks go so fast because of end-of-instruction testing, research papers, and all the spring activities.
This has been a rambling post, but that's the way my mind is working today. Every thought is of Jason. He was such a blessing to me from 35 years ago today to the very end.

Tiffany's service

2010-03-12T21:07:00.003-06:00

I went to another funeral today for a young person whose life ended too soon from our earthly perspective. We think that three score and ten is promised, but not all of us get that. Some of us take seventy years to make the impact that Tiffany made on this earth, but some, like Tiffany, figure out what's important early. Does God give an extra dose of wisdom to those whose life He knows will only be a few years? I don't know, but I do know this. If my life had ended at age 20, I wouldn't have left the legacy that Tiffany left. "She was always happy." "She was always smiling." "She loved everyone." "Everyone loved her." "She honored God with her life." Over and over these statements have been made this week. It is so obvious that the statements were true by the huge crowd at the service, the loving tributes made by her family and friends, her own testimony on video. Everything we witnessed today revealed a life that honored God.
I remember the peace I felt after Jason's service. My nephew spoke and told some really funny stories about Jason's childhood. The music was perfect. Jimmy's sermon ministered to us and gave us a picure of heaven that I've carried with me for almost eighteen months. The huge crowd embraced us; people we knew and people we'd never met came together for one common purpose. They loved and wanted to honor Jason's life.
I told Tiffany's family Wednesday night that I wasn't sure how long it takes to make the grief lessen, but I realized today that I'm farther along than I thought. This is what I now know that I didn't know before Sept 20, 2008.
-I know what a tragedy is--it's not losing a ballgame, being short of money, dealing with expensive car repairs, losing a job, making a bad grade, having a kid in trouble--I have seriously overreacted to these very things in my life.
-I know how much I love my family-this really should have been a given because I have always loved them to distraction, but I now know that my family has priority over all.
-I know that length of years really means nothing. My dad used to say, "I have to go to people's funerals so they'll come to mine." It always caused a groan, but seriously, a large funeral usually means a life cut short. If you live to be old, you outlive your friends and family, but if you die young...well, Jason's service and Tiffany's are examples of the kind of funeral a young person gets--standing room only. Tiffany got twenty years; Jason got thirty-three; both impacted a huge number of people by their life and more by their death.
-I know the power of prayer. Prior to Jason's death I thought I was not strong enough to survive if one of my children died. I am not strong enough, but through the prayers of my friends and family, God strengthened me.
I hope I've learned what I'm supposed to have learned. I pray that my eyes will continue to focus on what is important and Who is important. I pray that I can use the lessons I've learned to enlighten others.

March

2010-03-10T20:32:00.004-06:00

March will never be the same for me again. Every mother understands that the month her child was born is very special from the first day of the month to the end. Jason's birthday was always during Spring Break, so we celebrated for several days. Next week would have been Jason's 35th birthday. He was truly bothered by getting older. I used to laugh at him because he did not want to turn 30, or 31, or 32...
He told me many times that he didn't want any more birthdays after 30. Now he remains forever 33, a perfect age if you ask me. Last year I was traveling back from skiing on his birthday. This year we will get home the day before, so Tony and I will somehow honor his day. I'll take spring flowers to the cemetery; we'll probably go out to dinner that evening, and we'll surely cry a few tears. Is this year easier than last? Not yet.
Monday of this week Tiffany Fowler Tiffin was killed in a horrible automobile accident. She was only twenty years old. That's just not enough time on this earth for most people, but it seems to have been enough for Tiffany. Her life was lived to honor God. She was a great witness to all of her friends.
I've been reading the facebook page set up in her honor. Tiffany's short life reached so many people. She was a wonderful Christian example to her peers. I'm awed by the number of people who have posted their admiration for her because she lived her faith. What a legacy to leave behind at such a young age.
I went by to see her family this evening. Her sweet husband is heartbroken as I expected; her parents and brother are devastated as I expected; her in-laws are broken as I expected. What I didn't expect was for them to all reach out to me. Her mother thanked me for coming because she knew that this had brought all memories of Jason fresh to the surface. I've heard this several times this week. It's an awkward possition for me. Our faculty is grieving Tiffany's death, but so many of my colleagues are checking on me, asking me how I'm doing. I guess I wasn't prepared for this.
I must admit that tears have been right behind my eyes during class since Tuesday, but I'm assuming that all of our staff who knew and loved Tiffany and her husband Jake have experienced the same feelings I have.
I am so blessed to have the people in my life that I work with. They take care of me even though I don't know I need to be taken care of.
Live it up forever, Tiffany Fowler Tiffin. If we thought you were a bright spot here on earth, imagine what a joy you are in heaven.

Anger

2010-02-27T20:26:00.002-06:00

Let all bitterness, wrath, anger, clamor, and evil-speaking be put away from you with all malice. Ephesians 4:31.

This is a familiar New Testament teaching to us, but do we put these things away from us? Today in the Shawnee New Star there was an article by Larry Sparks about this very topic. We are a nation of angry people, and our anger is manifesting itself in unprecedented ways.
A man flew a plane into the IRS building because he was angry; then his daughter spoke from Norway saying that she was proud of her dad's actions. I hope she stays in Norway.
Road rage, people going "postal" at work, students shooting students and teachers, the list goes on.
We have been having a terrible time at school with "girl fights." What exactly do we expect of the generation of girls who have grown up watching Jerry Springer. They have no clue how to resolve conflict without "bitterness, wrath, anger, clamor, and evil-speaking." Add to that hair pulling, hitting, scratching, and you have the makings for an interesting day at school. When we try to tell them that they need to settle their arguments calmly with words, they look at us like we are aliens.
The sad fact is that many of our teenage girls have every right to be bitter and angry. They came into this world a sweet, innocent baby, but they were betrayed by the very people who were supposed to protect them from all harm. They've been abandoned by their fathers, and their mothers have not protected them from the men in their lives. Sometimes when these girls are talking openly about the chaos in their lives, my thought is--Honey, you didn't have a snowball's chance. Only a relationship with Jesus will rescue you from the world around you. I can't say those words, but I can pray that prayer.
I don't expect a person who is not a Christian to put these things away, but for a Christian to spew bitterness and anger all over the place is unacceptable. If we are supposed to hold our brothers and sisters in Christ accountable, I guess we should recite this verse when a Christian is speaking words of anger. I'm not sure I'm brave enough to do that.
I get angry; it happens far too often for me to look down my nose at anyone else, but I do try to hold off bitterness. In my experience bitterness is a cancer in the life of a believer. A bitter person is consumed. I have yet to meet a bitter person that I enjoy being around; as a matter of fact, I usually will try to avoid a person that I know is bitter.
Life is difficult, and we don't all get what everyone else gets here on this earth, but nothing is as dishonoring to God, in my opinion, than wearing a sour look that reveals that you got the short end of the stick.
It's not human nature to be content at all times. That is a gift of the Holy Spirit.
I am going to make every effort to "put away" anger from my life. What do I have to be angry about? Nothing. I am saved by grace, and I will spend eternity with the creator of the universe and His son who died so that I could live. All of this "stuff" is insignificant.

Prayers for Justin's family

2010-02-16T21:31:00.004-06:00

Justin Johnson, a former student at THS, was killed in a construction accident today. He leaves his wife, three boys and a host of friends and family to mourn his death. My heart hurts for his family. He was a cousin to Chase, my red-headed step-son (Carson's friend). Chase took the news of his death pretty hard. I know how it feels to get up on a day that you think is just like all other days, and suddenly your world is flipped upside down. You begin marking time from that moment and, I guess, continue to do that for the remainder of your life.
We went to Stillwater tonight to have a Valentine's dinner with Allison and Carson. I know that Jason wouldn't have been there anyway, but we missed him. Our family is so spread out in age that we often only had two of the children at a time. Before Carson we had seven years of just two; we only had five years of all three at home; then for six years we just had two at home again, then Carson was the lonely only for six years. Even though we seldom got together with all three of them and just us, I feel lonesome for Jason when we are just the four of us now.
Chase was supposed to join us tonight, but the news about Justin caused him to stay home. I hate that he has to grieve another loss. Chase was close to Jason--they really had a strange bond that began just as soon as they met one another. I know this will be another tough loss for him to understand. He is especially sad to think of Justin's boys. Life sure knocks people around, doesn't it?

World View

2010-02-10T21:08:00.004-06:00

I'm participating in a study at church called The Truth Project. So far it is interesting, a little slow, but interesting. One of the major truths is that each era, generation, age, whatever has a world view.
This is not new information to me. I teach American Literature which requires me to begin each unit with the World View of the people who lived in that time. I know that this generation's world view is very open-minded. The by-words of diversity, tolerance, and political correctness are tossed around in educated circles, and those very words offend other circles. Those words do not offend me. If I have a message to get out to a person that I have encountered, I need to realize that misusing labels creates a barrier to my message. My Oral Communications degree still comes into play sometimes, huh? Although I have spent 32 years teaching Language Arts, I also majored in Oral Communications. I studied speech, drama, debate, persuasion, group discussion just as much in college as I studied grammar, literature, and composition.
In those communications classes 35 years ago we were taught that any barrier to communication distorts the message. If I use a word that is offensive to people while I'm trying to convince them of something, I lose them. They will not hear my message about the love of Jesus if my language is judgemental and intolerant. You can call it political correctness if you want; I call it horse sense.
All of us have a world view, individually and collectively. I can't speak for the collective world view, but I can speak of my own. I want everyone that I come in contact with to see me as a positive representative of Christ. I fail so often that I shouldn't even be writing this, but every time I think "I'm not good enough to post something like this," I'm giving the devil a foothold in my life.
I'll never be good enough, but I know the truth of Jesus's salvation. I have no choice but to share it with others. That means I will have to be tolerant of the lifestyles of some people; I won't win them by looking down at them. I will have to use unnatural "politically correct" language if I want to reach out to the hungry souls in my life. I don't have all the answers; I just know that I have never known of a person becoming a Christian because someone ridiculed them for their lifestyle, thoughts, or opinions.
Father, let me see people as you do.

Coming off drugs.

2010-01-31T13:57:00.002-06:00

I'm a fortunate person in that I've never really had an addiction to anything dangerous--unless, of course, you think Diet Coke is dangerous. I haven't had a diet coke since Dec. 31st, and I'm doing fine. Week before last I went to the doctor because of my high blood pressure surprise, and I asked him how to stop taking the Cymbalta (anti-depressant) that I began taking last March. I started taking it during spring break the week of Jason's birthday. I had avoided anti-depressants before because I felt that taking them would just postpone my grief.
I don't know how much it helped me with my grief, but I do know that it held off my tears. It is awkward when you work around 17 year olds to cry at inopportune moments.
The doctor said to take them every other day for a week and then stop, so that's what I've done.
I guess they did work because I've been very weepy for the last few days. Since we've been housebound because of the snow, I've been watching television, and I've wiped tears at movies, the news, and a few commercials.
The reality is that Jason's death and the grief that goes with it never quite leaves my mind. It didn't leave it from March to now, and it won't leave me from now until I die. I will never stop missing him. I can't take a pill to make all things good again, so I'm going to tough it out to see if I can make it without pills.
How do people survive life on this earth? There's so much sadness, so much suffering, so much destruction, both man-made and nature-made. I have so many questions about all of this, and when those questions start getting to me I have to revisit some truths that are revealed to me through God's word.
I also have to revisit the good on this earth. I am blessed beyond measure with family and friends; the people that are in my life on this earth keep me focused on what is important here. The response to tragedy here reminds me that in the face of horror, it takes people to make those tragedies bearable.

Poetry contest entry

2010-01-30T17:01:00.000-06:00

Now I know how it feels.

Now I know how it feels to be told to write something, right now.
My students cry and complain if I say, “It’s due at the end of the hour.”
Those words makes their stomachs sour.
“I don’t know what to write about,” they say.
I respond with, “Get started, everything will be ok.”

Now I know how it feel to search for inspiration, right now.
I’m crying and complaining because I made a deal with Erin.
We’ll have a contest on facebook , but my mind is completely barren.
“I need some inspiration,” I think.
I look around to find something that inspires me,
But find nothing close, Oh Gee.

What I learned from my walk in the snow.

2010-01-29T13:49:00.002-06:00

I just walked down to meet Cindy, my sister-in-law, to go for a two-mile walk with her.

Here's what I learned:
1. When you have a heavy ski coat, don't wear too many layers under it. I had to stop and take the liner our of my coat because I got too hot.
2. The new cheap ski gloves that I bought at Christmas are warm, but they are too bulky. I will have to buy better ones before Spring Break.
3. My ski pants are a little snug--must lose some weight before Spring Break.
4. Merrell gripper snow shoes rock. I never slipped once.
5. Walking to Cindy's was more difficult than walking from Cindy's because the snow was hitting me in the face on the way there.
6. I should have left my glasses at home. They were fogged over, and I had to take them off very quickly so that I could see.
7. I always carry bottled water with me when I ski. I thought it was to prevent altitude sickness, but I should have taken it with me. I got really thirsty.
8. Cindy's little dog doesn't like to wear a sweater, but he shivers and likes to be carried.
9. Walking up the driveway to the smell of grilled chicken is really nice.
10. When you burn some calories, lunch tastes better, and the pound cake, strawberries, chocolate dessert doesn't make you feel so stuffed.
11. Bundle up, go outside, take your cell phone, if you must, wear a helmet,be careful, but you will really enjoy God's creation.

I didn't write this, but I wish I had.

2010-01-25T17:00:00.000-06:00

Taking advantage
Syndicated columnist Leonard Pitts has plenty of condemnation for those who put a political or overly religious spin on the tragedy in Haiti. "Apparently, some of us are so estranged from their very humanity, so besotted with their own righteousness, so deeply, damnably smug, self-centered, small and mean, that there is nothing — not the wail of orphan children, not the stink of rotting flesh, not death tolls that stagger imagining — they will not reduce to cheap morality plays to further their cultural and political agendas,” Pitts writes. "Tens of thousands of people are dead in the poorest place in the western hemisphere and the preacher asks: How can that be used to buttress my vision of a vengeful, angry God? Relief is being rushed to the island as fast as humanly possible and the bloviator wonders: how can that be used to belittle Barack Obama? Apparently, there’s never a timeout, never a pause button, never a moment when they remember to simply behave like human beings. A human being, faced with calamity on this scale, says, ’Oh, my God.’ A human being says, ’Those poor people.’ A human being says, ’What can I do to help?’ But the (Rush) Limbaughs and (Pat) Robertsons of the world say some variation of, God hates you. Or, You had it coming. They call that conservative. I call it obscene.”

Read more: http://www.newsok.com/article/3434453?searched=Leonard%20Pitts&custom_click=search#ixzz0dfSk7bl4

Why am I so surprised?

2010-01-23T13:20:00.004-06:00

I have had to start taking blood pressure medicine. Why am I so surprised? I'm 55 years old, need to lose 20 pounds, teach high school students... I'm really not certain why this has hit me so hard. One thing is that I had no symptoms. I went to give blood, and my bp was 194/120. It bothers that I could have something so wrong in my body, and I had no idea. I guess that's why they call it the silent killer.
I have always been healthy. I don't have to take medicine, until now, but the reality is that I will have to fact the facts. My body will not continue to work.
I am going to start writing daily in this blog because I'm afraid that some of my bp issues my be because I hold some things in. I hold tight to my emotions, my fears, my grief. I don't want people to look at me and think that I've lost it, but in actuality, I've lost so much that I must address those losses.

Haiti

2010-01-14T20:06:00.003-06:00

We have another horrible tragegy in one of the most impoverished places in the Western Hemisphers. The earthquake in Haiti is total devastation. They have already buried 7,000 and are expecting the death toll to be near 50,000. Right now the immediate needs are so basic, food, water, shelter, medical supplies and help. We have no idea how these people are going to survive.
This is another situation where the bride of Christ can reach out and help. I know that there are already missionaries that are there, but their main concern is survival for themselves and their families. We have to send immediate and continued help. Today so many planes were flying in with humanitarian aid that they couldn't land.
Brad and Angelina donated a million, one of the baseball leagues donated a million; George Clooney was on the news for helping in some way. I wonder if we added up all the money that Christian people send through the Red Cross, Save the Children, Feed the Children, etc. how much it would be. I certainly hope we could beat the celebrities. I'm thankful for celebrities like Brad and Angelina and George. They seem to have hearts of giving and sharing. They have encouraged other wealthy people to be humanitarians.
Of course, then we have Pat Roberson, who said on his tv program, that Haiti made a deal with the devil many years ago; therefore, they have continually suffered poverty and now this earthquake. What an embarrassment! We heard the same thing when the hurricane hit New Orleans. I don't remember hearing anything of this type about Indonesia and Italy. How do we decide which ones we blame on the people who live near the earthquake or flood and which ones are just natural disasters? I guess we ask Pat Roberson.
I guess from his way of thinking, Moore, Oklahoma must be an evil city. They've been hit by tornados multiple times. I know some people who live in Moore; they don't seem like the type to make a deal with devil.
I hope the people who watch his program don't buy in to his garbage. How exactly did they make a deal with devil? Was there a handshake, a contract, a fiddle?
Does he really believe that God is in heaven sending tragedy on an entire nation of people with a wave of His hand. He could, but I don't believe He does. If that were true, He probably would also be striking down people who displease Him. People would be dropping like flies all over the world.
From what I have been told by missionaries, Hawaii is a very difficult place to start a Christian church. The civil authorities put up roadblocks that make establishing churches very difficult, yet I've never seen total destruction in Hawaiil. Opps, I may have given God an idea.
Pat Roberson does not speak for me. He should read a book I read years ago called .
Following Jesus Without Embarrassing God Should I send a copy to Mr. Roberson?

The Truth Project

2010-01-10T21:21:00.002-06:00

I started a new class at church this evening. I've committed to attend a class called The Truth Project every Sunday at 4:00. It was difficult to sign up for because I'm a selfish person. Most of my life when I was actively attending church, I have attended Sunday evening services. Since I have been attending church in Harrah, I have become lazy about Sundays. I only go on Sunday mornings, and I really like it. I figure my kids resent that because they were always taken to church Sunday morning, Sunday night, and Wed. night. Now I go on Sunday morning only.
So, for the next 13 weeks I will be attending Sunday evening class again.
The class is a deep, philosophical study in Truth. What is truth? Why do I believe what I believe? What is the Christian Worldview? We will watch a video for about an hour each night and then discuss with a small group afterwards. I like the idea that tonight I was in a small group in my church with 10 other people who I'd never met before. I know we will all have to discuss some of the truths of our faith in light of our experiences and that will allow us to connect with one another.
I'm hoping that this study will take the place of therapy for me. I have so many questions that haunt me, and I know how to find the answers, but I don't search for them on my own as much as I should. I'm hoping this study will allow me to think through my doubts and fears.
Jimmy began a sermon series on parenting today. My first thought was "Oh, great, I'll be feeling guilty for the next weeks because he's going to tell me what I did wrong" However, that didn't happen. Instead he reminded me that as a teacher, I'm still involved in the development of my students. He spoke of making my classroom a shelter for my students, a place where they feel safe. I started thinking about that. Do my students feel safe in my room. I'm going to be intentional about making them feel that way. I try to pay attention to the way students treat one another, but I can't hear or see everything. Iam excited about learning new things. I guess that makes me a nerd, but I know that the keys to success are already determined; I just have to connect with them.

2010

2009-12-31T14:20:00.002-06:00

I've been noticing that the newscasters are calling 2010 Twenty ten instead of two thousand ten. That will take some getting used to. I wonder if it will cross over to us. I'm not sure why it matters.
When I reflect on this year, I can look back with sadness, joy, fear, humor, frustration, pride and humility at the events.
The sadness that permeates our lives is dealing with all the firsts without Jason. It doesn't really matter what yearly event was taking place, there was a bittersweet feeling that Jason was not with us. We survived. I'm so thankful for the prayers of my friends and family that has helped us with our grief.
I've experienced joy, something I didn't think I would feel again after Jason died. My most joyous moments have come when I've been with Tony, Allison, and Carson. We don't get to be together as often as we'd like because everyone has crazy schedules, but we have gone out to dinner or had dinner here, gone to OSU football games. I went to Stillwater several days this summer to help Allison and Carson move and decorate their houses. I love doing that. Any time I am around Crystal and Erica's kids, there is joy. Those little guys bring light into any room.
The fear that I have to overcome is the fear for Allison's and Carson's lives. I think because I have always prayed for my kids, I thought there was some kind of forcefield around them. Since Jason's death I have realized that my prayers are no guarantee of their safety, but I have to find a way to live without the fear.
The humor, something I was afraid would never come back after Jason's death, has never left me. I love laughing with my Sunday School class, the people I teach with, my students, and my family. I am truly relieved that we can laugh together every time we get together.
I was so frustrated when I discovered that the classes I needed to take for the summer couldn't be finished in June, and I not only had to go to school in July, but I also had to go to Durant for one of them. It all worked out ok.
The pride comes in finishing my master's finally. It only took 18 months, but I waited so long to do it.
Lastly, I have been so humbled by the love and support I have received from my friends and family this year. Sometimes I have a crummy day, or my heart starts aching, and I will receive a post on facebook, a call or a visit, and I will feel loved and comforted. Facebook has been so much fun. I have reconnected with people from all over and from all times in my life. Technology amazes me. I wonder what the next ten years will bring.

Christmas 2009

2009-12-26T18:10:00.002-06:00

It's December 26, 2009, and Christmas is not over. We still have a family Christmas to attend on Tuesday with Phyllis's kids and grandkids. I always look forward to seeing them. They are growing up so fast.
This year's Christmas has been rough for all of us in Oklahoma. Christmas Eve a blizzard blew in and dumped up to 14" of snow on us. People were stranded on the highways and the interstate system was closed. It didn't bode well for Christmas day. We're lucky enough that our destination of Randy and Cindy's is walking distance from our house, but we were able to get the truck out and enjoy an Indian taco lunch with Randy, Cindy, Cody, Ashley, Aunt Polly, Cindy's parents and Ashley's mom and brothers. Kirby, Beth and Carson were stuck in Piedmont but were able to drive down in the afternoon. Allison was stuck in Stillwater but was able to come home today. So, we opened our "Santa" gifts this afternoon and ate chilli dogs for lunch. Carson's friend Nick joined us.
We have three dogs for the weekend. They are improving each time she visits. At Thanksgiving Allison's dog Capone and our dog Lucy had a couple of run-ins over food and a position at the foot of my bed. Now Allison has Lady, a one year old King Charles Cavalier Spaniel to add to the mix. Amazingly they are all getting along fine.
Christmas Eve night when I realized that the roads were impassable and the kids weren't going to be home for Christmas, I had a little fit. I do that sometimes. Looking back now I realize I again overreacted. Dec. 25th is just a day. There is nothing sacred about that date. The important thing is that we are all safe and warm and that we will eventually get together to celebrate Jesus's birthday.
Many people had to rearrange their traditions this year. My niece whose husband is stationed in Abilene was expecting him to be home for Christmas Eve with all the Santa presents. He couldn't leave, so they had to postpone Santa's arrival until Christmas night. That took some fast talking.
I've been thinking today about Matt Gardner, a member of my Sunday School class. He is somewhere in the Middle East serving our country. My daughter being stranded completely safe in Stillwater is nothing to that.
Some families are experiencing their first Christmas without a loved one this year. I know from experience that traditions change with each death in the family.
I wonder how old I will be when I learn all the important lessons God wants me to learn through the experiences in my life. Patience, Debbie, Patience. The Fruit of the Spirit that we may ask for, but don't want to "learn".

Henry Isaacs

2009-12-23T10:58:00.002-06:00

Our friend Henry passed away this morning. He stepped out of this world of pain and into a world with no pain, no need for medicine, oxygen, hospitals.
I can't list all the ways our families are connected. His mother-in-law was my baby sitter. We attended church together. I went to school with his kids. His wife worked with my mother. His daughter Patty and wife Deannie were Jason's baby sitters from the time he was a tiny baby until he was 18 month old. His daughter Brenda carpooled with my sisters. His niece is now my closest friend in the world. Way too many connections to let his death go by without acknowledging his role in my life.
Henry and Deannie continued to keep up with Jason throughout his life. Every time I saw them, Henry would ask, "How's our boy?"
This morning he entered heaven. I hope Jason was in the throng of those who met him at the gate. Henry doesn't have to ask the question any longer. He now knows that "our boy" is perfect as Henry is perfect.
I know this holiday season will be a blurr for his family. Phyllis died on Dec.
19th. I truthfully don't remember that Christmas very well. Soon they will be able to fondly remember Henry in his heathy years. My prayer is that the family will find peace in this time of loss.

Christians with an Attitude. Is that Christlike?

2009-12-21T16:22:00.002-06:00

The holiday season brings out the best and worst in all of us. We are stressed, frustrated, confused... One thing a Christ follower shouldn't be is rude. It seems to me that lately we are nitpicking over every statement made by the people we come in contact with. I know that Jesus is the Reason for the Season and that we need to keep Christ in Christmas, but do we have to be so forceful with our opinions. If a store clerk wishes us Happy Holiday instead of Merry Christmas, we may notice it, but we shouldn't be rude to that clerk. The best response is a smile and a Merry Christmas right back.
We are all guilty of not keeping the "reason for the season" in front of us every minute. Can't we give others a break.
We don't live in a part of the country where there are multiple cultures, but some of our huge companies that have stores all over the nation may be based in a more multi-cultural part of the nation, so they may be telling the store managers to tell their clerks to say Happy Holidays.
One thing I am a firm believer of is that we represent Jesus. When I open my mouth, I am speaking as a representative of Jesus. I fall so short, but I must keep in mind that the people whom I come in contact with are expecting me to be Christlike. Jesus was never smart mouthed.
We have to keep in mind that our ultimate goal is for more people to follow Christ. If we are rude, why would a person want to join us as the bride. They wouldn't.
Let's purpose to make every person we come in contact with wonder what makes us so happy and kind. Maybe they will want to meet the God we worship.

Pictures

2009-12-20T21:19:00.002-06:00

We took family pictures today. I know we have had pictures before without Jason in them, but it seemed like a turning point for us today when the four of us were looking at the camera. I was glad to get the picture, but I can't help but be a little sad.
I had a really good day. My brother, sister-in-law, and niece brought puppies down for my nieces' kids and Allison. We went to Aunt Polly's today for the Humphrey gift exchange. It's so good to have the kids together. Cody and Ashley are here from San Diego, so with Kirby and Beth, Allison, and Carson, all the cousins were together. They crack me up because they banter back and forth like they always have.
Allison and I went to Crystal and Brandon's to see the kids with their new puppies. Nothing is cuter than Laney tying bows around their neck, Kiersten carrying poor little Meadow around, and Ashton and Gavin lying on the floor being attacked by puppies. Anthony, bless his heart, is too grown up to play with the other kids. He sits with me on the couch while playing pac man on Allison's phone. He's way too grown up for his own good.
I thought of Jason all day. It's inevitable that someone will call Carson Jason when we are together, and then there's this awkward silence for a few seconds. I love the fact that everyone is willing to bring up his name, the things he loved, the things he did, the things he said. He is still such a presence with us here.

Deep water

2009-12-15T23:00:00.002-06:00

Our sermon series this month has been about Diving Deep, going beyond the shallow water in pursuit of a relationship with God. I have learned a great deal about diving, but I've also learned about myself. I have been challenged to dig deeper in Bible study, in prayer, in connection to the Holy Spirit.
I wonder how many times in my Christian walk I have heard and accepted this type of challenge only to let it go after a time. I honestly can say that it has been too many to count.
It's about time for my SS class to choose a new topic of study. I've been reading a book about David, a character in the Bible I can totally relate to. David is described as a man after God's own heart, yet he did some awful things in his life. He is a character through which God can teach us of forgiveness. I love reading the Psalms when David is in despair because I've voiced those same words. I love reading when David is worshiping God through his poetry and song because I've been there too. I wonder how long it would take my SS class to do an in depth study of David. He certainly lived an eventful and exciting life.
I want to dive deep into this study. I want to clearly understand how to have God call me a woman after God's own heart.

The house is ready for Christmas, but I'm not.

2009-12-05T20:55:00.002-06:00

I made a big step this weekend toward getting ready for Christmas. I decorated the house and put up the tree, but I can't seem to get myself in the mood. I'm better than I was last year because I was able to put up the tree myself instead of calling on friends to do it, but every time I go shopping, I just walk around and look at stuff. I don't buy anything. I haven't seen anything out there that shouts, "This would be great for __________."
Tonight I've watched a couple of Christmas movies; I've been listening to Christmas music; I plan to see The Best Little Christmas Pageant Ever next week. I'm trying.
Next weekend I'll go shopping for our Adopt-a-family project. We will buy for about 20 kids. That always makes me feel good.
I hope tomorrow they will sing carols at church. I have to be reminded every minute that everything is never going to be the way I want it to be, but I can still be happy and enjoy my family throughout the holidays. I have to be reminded that others are counting on me to rejoice; many people in this world are hurting in worse ways than I am. I have to be reminded that Jason is in heaven, a real place.

Something to think about

2009-12-01T18:42:00.003-06:00

We all have difficult people in our lives, co-workers, neighbors, family members, the list goes on. Some of those difficult people are being prayed for by Christian family members. One of the prayers I pray for my unsaved family and friends is for God to place people in their paths that can witness to them. I don't mean verbally sit down and witness to them; I mean live before them like a Christ follower is supposed to live. I think about this often when I am facing a difficult person. They may have a relative or friend praying for ME to be the witness. If they are, God's Holy Spirit may be telling me to behave myself. How do I make sure I know who is observing me? I don't, so I have to treat everyone the way I am supposed to. How do I respond when I have a conflict with a difficult person? If I think about him or her as a soul bound for eternity, it alters my response.
The nucklehead causing problems for you may be the very nucklehead I am praying for; please don't undo the witness I have tried to be to them, and I will behave myself for the nucklehead you are praying for.

Hearing from God

2009-11-29T19:08:00.003-06:00

This morning in his sermon Jimmy challenged us to turn off the noise and pray. I did that on the way home and my prayer turned into a question fest. I asked God Why?
Why have so many people I love had to die young? What am I supposed to learn from him in all of these deaths? Why do some people go through life without ever losing family members, and we have lost so many? What have I done to merit these losses? Get the idea; I had myself a full-blown pity party. I went home this afternoon in tears. Maybe that's why I have noise around me all the time because when I'm left in quiet, I lose my mind.
Tonight I watched 60 minutes and saw a story on the people who live in the Congo. One woman had lost her husband and three children to war and was then raped by a soldier? Every day is a struggle for survival, for food. I got my answer from God. That woman didn't do anything to deserve her fate any more than I did. Sin entered this world, and we are living proof that sin has consequences.
My method of survival in all the deaths in my family has always been to look for the sadder story. When I was grieving my mom's death 13 years ago, I had a girl in class whose mother had died when she was a freshman. I felt blessed to have had my mother for 41 years. When Phyllis died (by the way, I am now the age she was when she died) we had a sixteen year old boy in our school with testicular cancer. I saw him weekly sitting on the basketball bench wearing a sock cap to cover his bald head. I kept thinking of his twin brother whose fear of losing his brother so young was palpable. His parents were facing the worst possible tragedy, and I kept wondering how they were maintaining their faith and sanity.
Daddy was 83 when he died, and he went quickly: four days from a stroke to heaven. I was reminded of people who live for years after a debilitating stroke and celebrated that Daddy and our family didn't have to endure that. When Linda died, her chronic illnesses had handicapped her for so long that I had to celebrate that she was in heaven with perfect eyesight, no longer blind; with a perfect body, no longer bound by arthritis and excess weight. When Jason died, I couldn't imagine a sadder story. The first message I received from God was the day before Jason's funeral. Our former principal and his daughter happened to come to the funeral home when we were there. His daughter is 28 years and has never seen, never walked; she has experienced life in a body bound by cerebral palsy. She requires full-time care that her daddy now provides for her. Her communication with them is limited to signals and a few words. I was blessed with a healthy son who lived life in a healthy body for 33 years. Lesson one.
Lesson two. I received a card the week after Jason died from a family in Kansas who knew Jason through NCHA. Their only child died the April before after a four-wheeler accident. I have two other children to push me back into life. I can't imagine the emptiness they feel. Lesson three. In October I began communicating with a lady from Elmore City whose 14 year old daughter was killed in an auto accident. Her 17 year old son was driving the car. Such heartache for them all. They had to grieve their daughter and help their son survive the guilt. I think God put this "looking for the sadder story" in me. He knew the day I entered this world what I would face; he knew I would need an extra dose of faith; His Holy Spirit spoke to my mother during my childhood and said, "Teach her my Ways. She's going to need them in her lifetime." Thank you Lord for taking care of me in advance.

Another holiday season

2009-11-28T20:00:00.002-06:00

Last year's holiday season was brutal. I couldn't find reason to celebrate. I couldn't find the strength to decorate. I just wanted the days to pass to get it over with. I have been told and have also experienced the reality that each year gets easier, but I wasn't sure that would be true after the loss of my child. I still had my moments this year; when I was making the "green stuff" Jason loved so much--lime jello, pecans, cream cheese, pineapple, and 7-up; when I was making pies and didn't feel the need to make a coconut pie; when we went to the movie Thanksgiving night. Jason loved movies, and we saw dozens the time he spent with us before he moved north. However, I can say that this year has been easier so far. We went shopping yesterday, and I kept thinking about the decorations that needed to be out at my house. That was a good sign to me. Last year I had to have friends over to decorate the tree. Allison told me she was feeling better about the holidays this year too. That's important to me. Our holidays have always been special. We have traditional foods, decorations, and gifts that I want to continue. I have always bought Hallmark ornaments for all three kids, and I will continue to do that. I have placed decorations in the same place--especially stockings. I will always put out Jason's stocking. I want my entire family to feel that he is still a part of our family; he has just moved to heaven. Someday we will begin adding family members, in-laws, cousins and grandchildren; I want them to feel that they know him. If we don't continue to talk about him and the things he contributed to our family, that won't happen.
One funny memory I have of Jason and Christmas decorations is from his freshman year in high school. We were having our first Christmas in Tecumseh, and I put up the decorations. Grandma Violet had made us a ceramic nativity scene that I had always placed on an end table on top of a nativity table cloth that I made. Jason came home and saw that I had put the nativity scene on the piano that year (for a change). He stopped and looked at it and said, "Mom, the nativity goes on that table." Who would have thought that a 14 year old would care, but from that day forward, I have never put it anywhere else. I had another dream about him last night. In this one I asked him if heaven was wonderful, and he just shook his head yes. It was almost like he didn't want to hurt my feelings and tell me he was happier there than here. I woke up feeling a warm feeling of peace.

Emotional week

2009-11-14T18:56:00.003-06:00

Tuesday of this week one of my school mates from 1st to 12th grade faced a horrible tragedy. Her sixteen year old daughter was brutally murdered in their home. Her nineteen year old found her sister's battered body where it had been placed in a bed and covered to the neck. The girl's boyfriend has been arrested for the murder, so they are not only grieving their daughter, they are going to be facing a trial, media coverage, probably guilt for not seeing a troubled relationship. So many emotions. On top of all of that, her older daughter is going to need constant support for the horror that she experienced at such a young age.
I talked Judi, my friend, Thursday night and tried to say something that would help her through, but just as people told me so many times after Jason died, "I have no words." That is the truth. There are no words to take away this kind of grief.
When I talked to her, she said she had had reservations about this boy, but she knew that if she forbid her daughter from seeing him, she would sneak around. Isn't that just like a mom; she is second guessing her parenting just as we all do when our kids are involved. As parents we take on all the responsibility of our children's choices. If we think they have chosen to love the wrong person, we want to intervene and make them see the light, but truthfully, we can't really control them in that way. We can pray that they will see the light before it is too late. For this beautiful little girl, it is too late.
After I heard that the boyfriend had been arrested, I started thinking about his family. I've said many times this year that I would rather have gone through the death of Jason than to be the parent of...the girl in Florida who killed her two year old daughter, the shooter in any mass murder, a young man who goes off and kills his sixteen year old girlfriend in a fit of rage. The list goes on. Very often in recent years, the news is filled with stories of parents killing children, children killing parents, stories as old as Biblical times, but still shocking to humanity.
Every mother's and father's nightmare is for their child, boy or girl, to become involved with the wrong person, a person who will harm them physically or emotionally. Those of us who have lived very many year have witnessed many relationships that we've know were doomed from the start. Of course, those of us who have lived very many years have also witnessed some of those relationships result in strong, loving families.
All I can do is to pray that Allison and Carson choose wisely when they choose a mate. I've thought that it would be better if they would let me choose, but I certainly wouldn't want to take on that responsibility.
My prayers are with Judi and her family.

A letter to Jason

2009-11-10T16:51:00.006-06:00

These last few days I have been missing Jason so much. I know what has triggered my thoughts of him. I have heard several pieces of information that has caused me to want to call him and share them with him. Life is continuing here, and his friends are having babies and living life. I still get a little sad when I hear about these things, and that makes me ashamed of myself. Now I'm going to write him a letter because I need to fill him in on the happenings of the past week. Maybe doing this will help me focus on the jobs at hand. I rejoice that his friends are enjoying the lives they have, so I'm going to fill Jason in.

Dear Jason,
I know that where you are you do not need a letter from me to tell you of the joy and sadness that we experience here on this planet, but I'm going to tell you anyway.
First, Mr. Blue is doing very well since his return from Korea for cancer treatment.
We're all so thankful.
Jill and Destry had their baby Friday afternoon, a little girl Destynee Jillian. She had a little trouble breathing at first, had to be intubated, but she is doing much better now. I just read that Jill and Destry are going home to see Tanner and Alycen and are heartsick about leaving Destynee in the hospital. That's a tough one.
The big news, Shawn delivered his baby Saturday morning at 1:00 AM on Hefner Parkway. They were on their way to Mercy, but just before they got there, he had to pull over and deliver little Jet Walker Jeffcoat. Shawn might be in a little trouble because he was posting from Cleveland, OK at 10:00 from the ballgame. I haven't talked to them, so I don't know how close she was to her due date, but I'm sure Friday night and Saturday morning were somewhat tense at the Jeffcoat house.
They came home from the hospital Monday. Oh yeah, from everything I have heard, they were expecting this one to be a girl. I guess all these gadgets we have here aren't that foolproof. Jet Walker is boy number four.
Mr. Capps is not doing very well. The family is getting Hospice help, so I know he must be really bad. He turned in his retirement request to the board meeting last night. It makes me so sad. We should be celebrating his retirement, but we can't. I'm so glad that we made him a T shirt quilt out of old Tecumseh Savage T shirts and were able to give it to him when he could use it.
Heather Harwell's mother has been in ICU for over a week. She is on a ventilator, and Ellen and Bill are staying with her. I know Ellen is really missing Heather right now. She is having to shoulder the entire responsibility. I remember being in that situation with mom, but I had Phyllis, Linda, Butch and Peggy and Gary and Kathy to help. I hope they can take the vent off soon. I haven't seen Carol in years, but she has always been so full of life. Not being able to communicate must be horrible for her. She wrote us the sweetest note after you died and said the same thing I am experiencing. When she heard of your wreck, she immediately wanted to call Heather. Then she realized Heather already knew.
Bob Trousdale's cancer is also very advanced. He has been told that there is nothing more that can be done for him. This too makes me sad, but I saw on Facebook (I so wish that you and I had gotten on Facebook that last year you lived in Nebraska; nobody is out-of-range.) Bob is doing an interview for his church about traveling a difficult road with faith. Bob certainly has faith that carries over to all of us.
OK, enough bad news. Carson's 22nd birthday is tomorrow. I know that would bother you. I remember when Kirby turned 21, you said that you didn't like those little boys becoming adults. We'll all meet in the city tomorrow night to eat. Those dinners are always a little bittersweet. We miss you most on those occasions.
You don't know this, but Aaron has married a very nice girl, Jennifer, who has four kids. With his two, her four, and the one they are expecting, they will have seven children. Sherri is already stressed about buying Christmas. Oh yea, the one they are expecting is another girl. I think two of Jennifer's kids are boys, so Aaron will always have someone to hunt with. Sherri really likes this girl.
Dennis and Kristen have two beautiful little girls. The youngest is just a month or so old. Terrye and I are friends on facebook, so I've seen pictures. So cute. Kristen has taken off to be home with them.
This is all that I can think of that I have wanted to call you about except, of course, Cowboy football. Your Cowboys are playing very well. You would be proud.
We all love you and miss you. I'd give anything for one of those long talks you and I used to have. Sorry to have to share so much sad news, but keeping it all in has been killing me. I guess there is a filter between here and heaven, so you won't get to read the bad news anyway. There may be some familiar faces for you to meet in the next few weeks. Keep an eye on the gate.

Another American tragedy.

2009-11-07T18:58:00.003-06:00

We've had another senseless shooting spree in America; this time on an Army base. I can't imagine the pain the families of the soldiers are experiencing. If their loved one was home from the Middle East, they probably breathed a sigh of relief when they touched down in Texas. If they were deploying, they probably felt they were save while on American soil. What an ultimate betrayal, to have your soldier murdered by a fellow soldier. I know we always have occasions of friendly fire but not anything like this.
Now the debate has turned to religion. The shooter was Muslim everyone says. I say the shooter was mentally ill. We've had plenty of people who claimed Christianity do abhorrent things, not because they were Christian, but because they were crazy.
One of the best things Christians can do now is to pray for the victims' families, pray for those wounded, and pray that this doesn't add fuel to the fire that is always about to flare between Christians and Muslims.
I am a Christian, but I'm not afraid of American Muslims. You may think I am stupid, but if I am truly thinking that Jesus loves everyone, I should try to be an example of Jesus' love to everyone.
Blaming all who belong to the nation of Islam for this tragedy is like blaming all the Christians for the actions of the KKK. The radicals of all religions do not reflect the majority. They just get the attention.

Find the right fit.

2009-11-02T19:39:00.002-06:00

One of the statements in Jimmy's sermon yesterday that I have thought so many times is if you don't agree with the way a church worships, keep looking. Why would anyone stay in a church that is not a fit for them when on another corner in town, they could find the right fit. That's why we have so many denominations and styles of worship.
If someone would ask me what my style is, I would have to say conservative/contemporary. This only makes sense to me. I want contemporary music, teaching, setting, but I am conservative in my behavior in church. I almost always wear a dress; I don't care what everyone else wears. I sing along, but I don't raise my hands in praise. I sometimes want to, but that's just not something I do. Why? Don't know.
My opinion about the typical Baptist church around here is that we are afraid of rituals because someone might think were too close to Catholic, and we are afraid of being too demonstrative because someone might think were too close to Charismatic. So, we rock along in the middle. Before I settled on Harrah Church, I visited a variety of other churches. If I liked the music, I didn't care for the preaching. I require a smart preacher. I refuse to sit week after week and listen to a man speak to me if he hasn't studied more than I have. I want to be taught every week. If I liked the preaching, I usually didn't care for the music. That's why Harrah Church is such a good fit. The music has changed drastically since I first started attending, but the change has been for a valid reason. We are trying to reach people who have never been to church. We can't reach them with songs like.
We're marching to Zion, beautiful, beautiful, Zion
We're marching upward to Zion, the beautiful city of God.
I really like that song, but I grew up singing it.
I also used to sing the four part harmony songs like:
I'll Fly Away, When we all get to Heaven, I'll meet you by the river.
Can you imagine an unchurched person visiting a church for the first time and picking up a hymnal and trying to follow along while everyone is singing different words at different times.
I want people who come in to our church to look at the screen and sing along with the praise songs that we sing today. We often have traditional hymns that have been "remixed" but only those who grew up singing hymns would know that.
I wish I had a surefire way to get visitors to come to church with me. I have to keep praying for opportunities.

Adjectives

2009-10-29T18:06:00.006-05:00

I did one of those experiments on facebook that tells your friends to post one words that describe you. I was amazed at about 60 comments that were so kind. Of course, I had to get "old" from a Wellston student, but you know what, the reason so many of the other words were so complementary is because I am old. Not real old, but old enough.
Next week I will turn 55 years old. What would people have said about me when I was 25? I don't know because I wouldn't have posted anything like that then. My friends weren't as kind then as they are now, and I wasn't very admirable. I would have probably been described as snotty, arrogant, silly, blabbermouth. See how words can be twisted to hurt. One of my friends yesterday described me as talkative--truthfully I'm surprised I didn't get loquacious, garrulous, and all the other synonyms for talkative there are. I've been called a chatterbox since I first learned to talk.
I just really want to share that at different times in my life, my descriptive words would have been much different. The most complementary ones to me were the ones that had to do with my spiritual strength. Would those have been used to describe me in previous decades? Maybe it has been the events of the last 13 years that have pushed me to move out of my "silliness" into a mature Christian. My mother died when I was 41, and I had to make a decision then about how I was going to reconcile my faith with her death. Up to that point in my life, I had never had my heart broken. When she died, I felt the pain in my heart. It wasn't just emotional pain; it was physical.
Of course since that time, my two sisters, my dad, and Jason have joined Mom in heaven. With each death I have felt sorrow, heartbreak, severe sadness, but the one thing I have never felt is alone. God has carried me through my darkest hours.
Jason's death has been the most difficult to get beyond, but one thing that is different from what I expected is that every thought of him does not bring pain. My memories of him are sweet. What hurts is his lack of a future. I've said it before, but I will always grieve Jason's future. I will grieve the things he didn't get to experience on this earth, happy marriage, fatherhood, being an uncle. Those things bring much joy on this earth, but I have to keep reminding myself where he is. He has all the joy he needs.
Knowing that lets me be described as strong, faithful, spiritual, etc. Thanks everyone for the complements.

Dreams

2009-10-27T21:07:00.009-05:00

Last night I had my first dream about Jason. It didn't make me sad like I thought it would; this morning I felt like I had spent the night visiting with him and my sister Phyllis. We were at Phyllis's house, working in the kitchen, and Jason came in with a wet swimsuit. Phyllis was fussing at him for dripping everywhere, and he was laughing and ignoring her. She never could get him to mind because she thought everything he did was funny.
I am taking a medication (Cymbalta) that has one side effect of vivid dreams. It is a regular occurence for me to get to school and find someone that I had a strange dream about the night before. Most of the dreams are about nothing I can even remotely connect to my life. I think I am a good candidate for the sleep and dreams clinic at OU, but I'm afraid they will take my to the east side of Norman if they dig too deep into my psyche. I would like to talk to someone who could help me analyze them.
After months of the wierd dreams, I only have two that seem the least bit connected. I have dreamed of my parents' house twice. In both of the dreams, the house looked like it did when I was a kid. Daddy did two big remodels on the house. One was to make a garage and bedroom into a den, and the other was to put new kitchen cabinets in the kitchen. In both of my dreams, those remodels had not happened. One of our school counselors told me I was trying to retain precious memories. That makes sense, but why have I dreamed this week that two of our teachers have had weddings or vow renewals? Both of these teachers have been married quite a while. What in the world is that connected to?
I'm trying to get the courage to start the process of going off the depression medication. I have been taking it about six months. The only thing that I really notice about its effectiveness is that I don't cry. Before I started taking the medicine in March, I would suddenly get teary eyed at very inopportune moments. I would be trying to teach a class at school or at church, and something would trigger tears. I also was very frustrated that I couldn't get anything finished. I was having trouble focusing on tasks that had to be done, so my doctor, Doogie Howser, prescribed an anti-depressant. I know that I am not supposed to just go off the drug, so I will need to go back to see him to get his advice. I'm really thinking that after the holidays, I will give it a try. I know that there are lots of people who take drugs like this, but I don't really like take them. I'm a born-again, believer in the God of Heaven. Shouldn't I be able to cope without drugs? We'll see.

Rivalry

2009-10-17T22:06:00.005-05:00

I've noticed something lately. There are few friendly rivalries. Republicans and Democrats say terrible things about one another. Baseball fans not only hate their teams' rivals, they hate all the fans of their rivals. Today is another Saturday of the college football season. Texas beat OU this afternoon in a really good game. Even though I am an OSU fan, I can cheer for OU too. I didn't go to either school; I'm an OSU fan because my kids went to OSU, but I really have no reason to hate OU and their fans. I've become sensitive to insensitivity. We are becoming a people with no tolerance for anyone who doesn't agree with us.
We see it in religious differences. I'm a devoted Christian, but I can't hate people of another faith. I just don't believe the way they believe. Is there any possibility of my being able to witness to a person who I have treated unkindly. NO. If I want to be a witness for the meek and humble Jesus, I have to let go of any arrogance that I may project.
Jimmy preached about heaven a few years ago. He gave me a completely different view of heaven in that series, but one thing I remember is that he believes there might be competition in heaven. For competition to be in a perfect place with sinless people is difficult to imagine because we have become so accustomed to trash talk and in-your-face athletics. It doesn't have to be that way.
I look back at my behavior when my kids were competing, and I'm ashamed. I wasn't always a good witness to others. I probably won't be challenged again unless I have grandchildren someday, and I am able to attend their games. If you are reading this and you ever see me act like a fool at a game again, hold me accountable. Remind me that I want to be a good witness.

Different kind of post

2009-10-13T20:11:00.002-05:00

Tonight my post is going to be different from the kind I usually post. I just returned from the Relay for Life of Tecumseh Committee Meeting. We met tonight to begin planning the Relay event that will take place May 14th 2010. We chose "Knock Cancer out of the Park" for our theme this year, so everybody get your baseball team ideas together and prepare for a fun night.
I'm linking this post to my Facebook page because I have too much to share to just put it in little word bites.

First, on a personal note,
My reason to relay:
1.My cousin Kimberly Rider died of leukemia when I was in high school. If Kimberly had been born a little later, she probably would not have died from her cancer. Research has made the diagnosis of childhood leukemia change from a death sentence as it was in the late 60's early 70's when Kimberly was sick to a conquerable disease.
2. My life-long friend Shirley Walck is a two-time cancer survivor. I walk every year celebrating the almost 20 years since Shirley's first diagnosis. She has two beautiful grandchildren who would have missed out on a terrific Granna if research had not made breast cancer survivable.
3. I have so many dear friends who are battling cancer and some wonderful friends that have lost their battle with cancer in whose honor I walk. I know I will miss someone, but I will list the ones that come to my mind tonight.
Sharyl Patten, Jame Blue, Roy Capps, Bob Trousdale, Blake Matlock, Natalie O'Dell, Terry O'Rorke, Sharon Warden, and Shelby Elred's mother are all fighting right now. I can't do much to help them in their fight, but I can feel that I am actively doing something for them by being involved in Relay.
Kimberly Rider, Cheryl Sing, Ron Webb, my aunts, Reet and Mary, are now in heaven, and I feel an obligation to continue the fight so that other people who get the kind of cancer that took their lives will survive.
3. Relay is fun. I have made so many wonderful friends out of acquaintances through Relay for Life of Tecumseh. Many of the people I have worked with for the past several years are people I knew casually; now I know them well, and we have a blast whether we are planning for Relay or actually participating.
Now for the plea. If you have never been involved in a Relay for Life, make this the year to get involved. Join an already existing team, or make a new team. Come to the next meeting at Tecumseh's City Hall on November 10th at 6:30 and check out how easy it is to have a team. You can always call me to see what all is involved. My cell in 820 6370.
By the way my job this year is the On-Line Chair because they needed someone who likes to communicate on-line. Why did everyone look directly at me when they came to that job?

Another Saturday night.

2009-10-10T20:55:00.002-05:00

This time last year Saturday nights were always very sad. I was marking the weeks since Jason's death, and that's all I could think about. A year has passed, and I have found myself not marking the weeks any longer. That's a relief. Time really does heal. Don't get me wrong; not a day goes by that I don't miss him, but it no longer feels like a sucker punch to the heart when I do. I remember last year thinking that the pain would never lessen. I really didn't want it to lessen at that time. The pain and grief kept me connected to Jason. In many circumstances I've heard that a person shouldn't make any real changes during the first year of grief. This advice is especially given to widows or widowers, but I can see why that would be true. I have been in no shape to make major life decisions this year.
When I finished my Master's, I wanted so much to change jobs, but I didn't even put out a resume. Now I realize why. It is a comfort to know what I'm doing at work right now. I know that because we just finished the first semester, it's time to begin to think about the research paper. I'm familiar with the Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass and Huckleberry Finn, so I don't have to spend time planning because I know what's next. I like to change things up each year, but I don't have to start from scratch. Maybe next year I will be ready for something new. I realize now that last year I was back at school at this time, I really don't remember very much about teaching from Oct. to Dec. Those poor kids. I joked with them that their teacher had Alzheimer's because I would forget so many things, but I really did have a brain injury. My mind just couldn't wrap itself around one of my kids being gone.
I think some of my friends at school covered for me last year. I'm sure that students complained about my addled brain, but it never got to me. That's another reason I was afraid to put out resumes. I am truly blessed to work with my friends. We get along so well and enjoy one another's company. We saw a popular video a few years ago as part of in-service about a fish business in Seattle that has so much fun at work that people take their lunch hour to watch their work. Someone should come in to our school and do a documentary about how important it is to enjoy being around the people we work with. I talk to people all the time who can't stand the people they work with. How sad for them. I don't know the magic that makes us like this, but it has been this way for twenty years. Teachers have moved, retired, left, and teachers have been hired and added to our group, and the atmosphere around me stays the same. We care about one another and all the families represented. We have a standing joke that we usually start our stories now with, "I know I've told this story before, but..." So we have a plan to just number our stories and then laugh when someone calls out that number. The thing is I usually like hearing their stories again. My favorite is Gina's story of having a discussion with her son Andrew about some discipline issue. She and Dave had given Andrew some scenarios so that he wouldn't make the same mistake again. When they asked him what he had learned, he said, "I know what a scenario is." That's number 68.

Patterns.

2009-10-08T22:22:00.002-05:00

I've been very busy this week, and I started getting sick Monday. I stayed home Tuesday holding my breath that I was getting the flu because I had such a miserable evening and night Monday. I guess I just have a cold because I no longer have fever, so I went back to school Wed. These past couple of weeks I have been reading the posts from the first of this blog. This time last year, I was doing the exact same thing I did tonight. I made out a final tonight to give tomorrow; that's what I did last year. I don't have a very exciting life, do I?
Sometimes I have to remind myself that the students I have are doing these things for the first time. I may have read a piece of literature several times, but they are reading it for the first time. If they don't quite understand all the ins and outs of something that seems so simple to me, its my job to bring them along.

Today Ruth (one of my co-workers who retired a couple of years ag0) brought lunch for our lunch bunch. It was so nice to see her and visit with her at lunch. It made me think about the changes in our school staff over the time I have been here. I am amazed that it is time for me to be one of the people moving on to something new. I guess I am afraid of what change might bring. I am comfortable with the way things are, but I would like very much to try my luck at helping secondary readers.
I have some kids in class right now that I think I could help if I didn't have such large classes. True helps comes to students in one-on-one or very small group situations.
I'm again asking for prayer that I will know when the right time is to do something new, to start a new pattern in my life.

Patience

2009-10-03T21:10:00.002-05:00

Caleb waited 45 years to receive the land that was promised to him. I've waited almost 30 years for something that I believe God wants me to have, but I lose sight of the promised land sometimes and get discouraged. I wonder if Caleb ever became so discouraged that he was about to give up and think his promise would never be fulfilled. God's time is not our time. I've learned that lesson over and over in my life. I wonder how long it will take me to bring that to my mind first instead of after nail biting, worry, anger, etc.
The funny thing is that in my reading of Joshua and Proverbs paired, this is what Proverbs in The Message says to me today.
Proverbs 3:5
Trust God from the bottom of your heart,
don't try to figure out everything on your own.
Listen for God's voice in everything you do, everywhere you go.
he's the one who will keep you on track.

I love it when I coincidentally read just the passage I need. I've many times searched for something to answer my questions intentionally by using a concordance or other aid.
I am following along with several people right now who are having to trust God from the bottom of their hearts. So many people battling cancer are having to let go and let God. Mr. Blue, Mr. Capps, a high school classmate's sister, Bob Trousdale, Natalie O'dell, to name a few. All of them say the same thing; we just have to trust God because all of this is out of our hands. They are trusting doctors and their treatments and not trying to figure out everything on their own. That may be the most difficult thing for humans to do. We want to be in control.
I lost control of my life when Jason was killed. I realized that I can't control anything, I can only trust God. God sees my future; He knows what else I will have to face. I will listen for God's voice in every trial because He will keep me on track.

Wisdom of Solomon

2009-10-02T22:28:00.003-05:00

Proverbs 2: 9-15
So now you can pick out what's true and fair,
find all the good trails.
Lady Wisdom will be your close friend,
and Brother Knowledge your pleasant companion
Good Sense will scout ahead for danger,
Insight will keep an eye out for you,
They'll keep you from making wrong turns,
or folowing the bad direction.

Wisdom, knowledge, and good sense--do we need anything else. Some might add Faith, but if you have true wisdom, knowledge, and good sense, faith is a natural result.
I have spent my adult life as an educator, and I have taught some brilliant students. Many of the most brilliant academically have also been very wise, but some have not been. As a parent, I would prefer my children be wise over brilliant. I want them to use the good sense that I know they are capable of using. According the this passage Good Sense will scout ahead. That's what it takes; thinking through all the possibilities. Some kids can do that; some have to learn the value of doing it by ignoring warning signs and other people's experiences.
Those are the ones that learn everything the hard way. They will not look at anyone else's experience and learn a lesson that prevents them from going the same direction.
That is frustrating to me as a parent and a teacher, but can you imagine how frustrated God must be with us. We have the Bible for an example, but we don't read it carefully and often enough to have what we read impact our choices. That's not very wise, is it?

Joshua 9

2009-10-01T19:09:00.004-05:00

Now I remember why the Old Testament is so difficult for me to read. I realize that God knew the big picture,so when the people of Israel were told to completely obliterate a people, that was the right thing for them to do. It's just very difficult to read. I prefer the Sermon on the Mount, the Beatitudes, the Epistles of the New Testament. I have to force myself to read these books of the Old Testament by softening them with passages a little less violent. This morning on KLOVE they challenged the listeners to read a chapter of Proverbs every day during the month of October because Proverbs has thirty-one chapters. That will be my plan for the month. I will finish Joshua and Judges this month too, but I will temper them with the wisdom of Solomon. At the introduction in The Message, Peterson states that wisdom is the biblical term for this on-earth-as-it-is-in-heaven everyday living. I could use some wisdom right now. As I've come to realize in my "mature years," I need to live the promised life. To do that I have to make sure I stay connected. If I unplug this computer from the internet, this blog won't post. If I unplug myself from God, the evidence that I live for Jesus will not be clear to others.
My pacifist leanings come out strongly when I am reading the passages about war and destruction. I can't stand to hear that we need to send more troops into harm's way, but if I had a son somewhere that needed more troops, I would want help for my son. War is a catch 22. Peace may be the thing I most look forward to about heaven.
I'm so thankful for the New Covenant. I'm so thankful that we live under grace. In the passages I have been reading this week, the people had to follow the letter of God's instruction or they faced dire consequences. Aren't we glad that is not how we live today. I would have dropped dead about five minutes after I reached the age of accountability.

Courage

2009-09-30T20:08:00.004-05:00

I'm reading Joshua right now because Jimmy has been preaching on it for a few weeks. I love the idea of doing something that God tells you to do that causes everyone else to question your sanity. Don't you think that when Joshua was telling the people to march around the walls, blow the trumpets, carry the ark of God, cross the Jordan, that people were shaking their heads and wondering what Joshua was smoking.
Seriously, when people watch Christ followers doing what God has told us to do, they probably think the same thing. You give how much to the church? You go to church every week? You read your Bible every day? You're making food for someone from in your class who is sick? You listen to positive, encouraging KLOVE all the time? You spend quiet time with God every morning before you go to work? That's not all necessary; you can get to heaven without doing all of those things, right? Right, but I need those things. I have found that I need positive, encouraging reading material and music. I need church every week. I need quiet time. I need the people in my Sunday school class. It won't get me to a higher place in heaven, but it will make my days here on this earth better than they would have been without all these things and people.
The thing is these things are just as foreign to some people as marching around the walls of the city every day for seven days. Why would you do something so absurd? It has taken me many years to understand exactly why I do the things I do. I do them because they make me feel good. Reading the Old Testament isn't always my favorite thing--too many wars, too much destruction, too many sad stories, but I can see God working in the lives of his people, so I feel a connection to people who lived thousands of years before me. They had struggles; they sinned; they failed; they grumbled, but ultimately they followed God. I have struggles, I sin, I fail, I grumble, but ultimately I follow God. All of the hoops I jump through (according to some people) are for me; they are not for God. He is God; he doesn't need me to do these things, but he wants me to.

Another blessed Sunday

2009-09-27T20:06:00.004-05:00

One year ago today my family joined me for church because we had just buried Jason the Friday before, and I needed their support. Today Allison, Mike, Crystal, Erica, and their kids joined me again. Crystal's and Erica's kids are so cute and sweet. They all crack me up. For some reason Kiersten had a blown up balloon. I kept thinking that it would pop during service and scare everyone to death. In today's climate everyone would hit the floor and think that a gunman was in the building. The balloon stayed intact all through service, so everything was all right.
After church we went to Bethel to Anthony's third grade football game. What fun. Those little guys are serious. Anthony's team won in the fourth quarter. A defensive battle. The game stayed tied 0-0 until close to the end. Then Bethel scored a touchdown and a 2 point conversion.
We all came back to the house and ate chilli dogs while the kids played in Allison's room. The girls went home with pom pons, and the boys had a video game that was sent to me by mistake to take with them. They were playing with the barns, trucks and horse trailers, animals etc. that all belonged to Jason. The animals were all branded with either his brand JH or Kirby's H. Cracked me up. Jason was never a kid; he played very serious games.
I have a very busy week. I'm serving on a committee in OKC this week and have to be in the city Tue., Wed, and Thurs. The committee's purpose is to review test items for the end-of-instruction English test. When I was asked to serve on the committee, it was summer, and I didn't really think it through. Now I'm wishing I had said no. Nothing is worse than getting abunch of English teachers together to review something that someone else has written. My plan is to go spend one night at my friend Cindy's so that we can catch up. That will be the bright spot of the week.
I'm blogging right know to avoid doing lesson plans. I hate to be gone for that reason. It is 10x easier to teach school than it is to plan to be gone.

Our current sermon series is on Joshua. It has been very challenging to me. Today Jimmy asked us how much time to we spend reading the Bible for our own benefit, not to prepare a lesson, but to challenge and enlighten ourselves. Man, that hit me right between the eyes. I used to do that. Before Jason's death (and this is no excuse) I read a passage and journaled on it each morning. One complete year has passed since my last journal post because I know how much I prayed for my kids in that journal. When Jimmy shared this morning that his kids would have a stack of journals to read that would reveal his strengths and weaknesses, triumphs and struggles, I realized that I used to say that too. I haven't been able to read those journals because I keep seeing the daily prayer of "keep my children safe, physically, spiritually, and emotionally." All I focus on is the unanswered part of that prayer. Jason died physically, but spiritually he is complete. Allison and Carson suffered the worst loss of their lives in losing Jason, so I keep thinking of their emotional pain, but their spiritual lives are secure.
I'm going to "screw my courage to the sticking place" and begin journaling again. in my own hand as I always did. I've been living between the Red Sea and the Jordan. I'm ready to live in the promised land.

Another tribute

2009-09-24T21:53:00.000-05:00

I went to school today and looked at the benches in front of the Alumni Building. There are about ten really nice park benches out there. My mother-in-law told me that according to her connections, Jason's class was buying one to put out there with Jason's name on it. I was a little afraid to look at it before school because I never know how I will react to things like this. I know when I first saw his name on a headstone, it took me a while to recover, but this morning I was touched but not wiped out. Thanks Class of 1993; you are very sweet kids. I realize you are no longer kids, but you are to me.
I've had several weeks in a row of busy, busy weekends, so this weekend I am saying no to all excessive activities. Tomorrow I will go to the football game, but Saturday I'm going to do as little running around as possible. I may go to Sam's because I need some things from there. This week I have had a difficult time getting up. For years I have gotten up at six and have been ready to leave a little before seven, but this week I haven't gotten up until 6:30 which gets me to school around 7:30. We don't start class until 8:30, but for some reason I need more than an hour to be ready. I'm thinking that if I don't run around all weekend, I'll be more rested. We'll see.

Update on Mr. Blue

2009-09-22T19:55:00.002-05:00

A few weeks ago I posted that my former principal, James Blue, went to Korea for cancer treatment. He arrived home this past weekend after seven weeks in Korea. He has more treatment to take here in the US, but Dr. Moon (in Korea) gave him hope that no doctor in the US gave him. His brain cancer is gone, and the lung cancer is in remission. Praise God and Korean doctors.

Whispers in scripture.

2009-09-22T18:55:00.002-05:00

I am reading Max Lucado's book For the Tough Times. In Chapter 8 he discusses death from God's perspective. There are some Bible verses that have troubled me ever since my mother died. "For the dead in Christ shall rise..." Taken out of context of the entire scripture, this sounds like they are in limbo until then. I want to think of my family members who have passed on living together in heaven. This book gives me solid answers for my questions. Many times when I have voiced this question and the doubts in my mind, people have reminded me of the thief on the cross. "Today you will be with me in paradise." I love the way Max explains this theology. He says, When speaking about the period between the death of the body and the resurrection of the body, the Bible doesn't shout; it just whispers."

For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. If I am to go on living in the body, this will mean fruitful labor for me. Yet what shall I choose? I do not know! I am torn between the two: I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is better by far. (Phil. 1:21-23 NIV)

Now I am mixing Lucado's words with mine.
It is right for us to weep, but there is no need for us to despair. They had pain here (Jason's body hurt from years of riding horses; this time of year he would have been suffering greatly with allergies.) They struggled here (Jason lived with a great deal of frustration after his divorce.) He has no pain or struggles there. I may wonder why God took him home. But he doesn't. He understands. He is, at this very moment, at peace in the pressence of God.

I don't know how much time will pass before I join him in heaven, but I do know this. He is not missing me. He is living in paradise, with people that he loved here on this earth and with Jesus. I will always miss Jason; for the remainder of my days I will regret his death, but that is the very human, selfish side of me. Why exactly would I want him to come back to this horrible and wonderful place? I'll tell you why--because I am human and selfish. \
I can't possible erase the grief, but I can continue to read God's word and the words of Godly men and women who will help me get through it. I've said it before--I'm so glad I am a reader. I have benefitted greatly from the books that I've read in every troubling situation.

Year one

2009-09-20T23:18:00.002-05:00

In just one hour Jason will have been in heaven for one full year. I'm hoping that my Tylenol PM will take effect soon, and I will go to sleep. My head and heart has been full of Jason this weekend. I've laughed, cried, and felt every emotion that a mother feels when she is proud of the kid she raised. I've tried to think about his life here on this earth. I've tried to see the contribution he made to the planet. It wasn't financial; he didn't care a thing about money. It wasn't by leaving behind a family for which I am both resentful and grateful. It wasn't fame although I am still amazed at the number of friends he had. What did he leave us? Jason left zest for life, loyalty to friends and family, laughter, concern, comfort, consideration and a multitude of other virtues that will come to me later.
How have I survived this year? First, I know Jason is in heaven with Jesus and the loved ones who have gone before. That gives me a great deal of comfort. I've wondered if they will have a birthday party in heaven for him. He loved Phyllis' carrot cake. Maybe she made him one.
I know that part of the reason I have put one foot in front of the other this year is because my mother equipped me for this life. If you are reading this while you are raising children, take your children to church. Give them the opportunity when their hearts are tender to accept Jesus and know his salvation. Give them the tools that will help them navigate the heartache and sorrow this life may offer them. I know my mother had no idea what I would face, so she provided a way for me to face whatever came my way.
I have a wonderful family. Yesterday Tony and I went to Stillwater and tailgated with Allison, Carson, and their friends. Then we went to the ballgame, took our first family picture since July of 08 and enjoyed one another's company. No one can know how difficult it is to continue living without Jason, but there's no excuse for us to stop living. He is in a place that will never experience the pain of death, suffering, worry, stress, financial concerns, illness...the list goes on.
I have an awesome Sunday School class that enjoys one another's company and has a deep concern for each other. We laugh and share our lives and then share the truths of our faith.
Allison, Mike, Crystal, Erica, and all the kids came to church today and then we went out to lunch at Garfield's. Kids eat free on Sunday. I sat at the table with Toni Henry, Allison, Mike and Ashton and Gavin. Ashton and Gavin are both four-years-old and kept us entertained the entire meal. The sang songs they have learned in school this year, drew pictures on the table, and made me laugh. Ashton kept calling me Gwamma and asked my why I didn't ever come to his house. I got to thinking that if he really thinks I'm his Gwamma, he must think I'm a terrible one. I'm going to start visiting him more often. Actually, I'm his great, great aunt. I know that seems incredible, but his Papa Gary Powell (that's what the kids call him) is my nephew. I was five when he was born, so his kids and mine were raised together. They couldn't be closer than if they were all first cousins.
I came home Thursday from work with a beautiful painting of running horses with a scripture on it(I'd put the scripture in here, but I would have to get out of bed to go read it). Attached to the gift were many, many "thinking of you" cards from the faculty and staff of my school.
I kept thinking of a way that I could thank them tomorrow without the emotional scene of thanking them verbally or the impersonal thank you note. My idea--cookies.
I will thank them with cookies, so tonight I made chocolate chip, white chocolate/cranberry/coconut, and peanut butter cookies to take to school tomorrow.
I love the people I work with. They are some of the kindest, most generous people I have ever met. There are very few of them who knew Jason, but they have let me share my funny stories with them, so they all feel like they knew him. I hope I don't drive them crazy with my stories. Just when you think you have told all the stories and don't need to share them any more, we get a new faculty member, so we all start sharing our funniest ones. Some of us have been around for so long that we have heard most of the stories, but that doesn't stop us. We all still laugh which is what gets us through the day. Sometimes I'm so tired after laughing at lunch that I feel like I've been doing aerobics. I'm sure we burn some calories.

Honoring Jason

2009-09-17T22:23:00.002-05:00

We are facing the one year anniversary of Jason's death. I remember so well how much I accomplished one year ago tomorrow. I scrubbed my porch and washed down the front of the house, cleaned house, bought groceries. I have always loved days off when I can be home alone. I don't mean that to be mean to Tony, but when he's here, I don't get as much done.
Tomorrow morning I have a haircut scheduled for 8:30 and then I will probably go to get a pedicure, buy a few groceries, and go home to clean house. I was so busy last weekend that I didn't get much work done around here. Tomorrow night I will go to the football game to sell raffle tickets for the t-shirt quilt. We would like to sell enough that the amount we can give Mr. Blue and Mr. Capps will be of assistance for their incidental expenses.
Saturday we will head to Stillwater to tailgate, at Carson's house, and then go to the ballgame. We wanted to do something together that Jason would have liked. I have another goal. We haven't taken a family picture since last year. I just haven't been able to do it, so this weekend I'm going to.
The pain of thinking about each hour Sunday morning from 3:00 A.M. is horrible. It's odd; I have some memory blanks from some of the time right after his death, but not during those first days. My blanks are from after the funeral to Christmas. Sometimes I will see something or read something, and it will trigger a suppressed memory. Isn't that strange? You would think the blanks would come earlier.
My memories of him have been so vivid in recent weeks. Stories have come to my mind that I haven't thought of in a long time. Is this a gift from God so that I can remember him fondly?
Thank you God for my family and friends. Thank you for Jason and his roll as big brother, son, cousin, grandson, nephew and friend. Thank you for the phone calls, cards, and gifts from my family and co-workers. Thank you for giving your son and for receiving my son.

Small town life

2009-09-13T15:01:00.003-05:00

Today I went to a benefit dinner for two men in our community who are battling cancer. I have no idea how many people were there, but let me just say there was a steady stream of people for about three hours.
I sold $240 worth of tickets for the quilt we are drawing for. We were able to give the quilts to Mr. Blue's family and Mr. Capps's wife, so we don't have to worry about any of us taking cold and flu bugs into their homes.
I'm so proud to be from a community that cares about its citizens. I know both Mr. Blue and Mr. Capps are proud men who would not want to be on the receiving end of charity, but I know both of them to be such giving men. I would tell them, "Don't rob us of our blessing. We want to do this."
Danny Sterling, who is our assistant principal and former ag teacher, was taking the money for the dinner today. He was overwhelmed by the generosity of people who gave donations over the cost of their dinner. I'm not surprised. Everyone wants to help, but their little donation is awkward to give, but to join with others makes it seem like your gift can really make a difference. I don't know how much they took in today, but I know that incidental expenses of an illness can be tough.
I had to swallow my pride last year when I was planning Jason's funeral. The expense of a funeral is so great today that I was certain that after all was said and done, we would still have a bill. We didn't. In the first few days after his death, I kept getting asked if we had established a Memorial Fund, but we hadn't. There were so many people wanting to do something and so many flowers at the funeral home and at our house that I didn't really think we would get that much, but both the bank and Jason's friends convinced us to open a memorial account. We received gifts from people we had never heard of from all over the country. We were able to pay for the service and buy a headstone with the donations and the insurance from his truck. That was such a relief for us. It's bad enough to lose a child, but it would have been horrible to have to "make a payment" to the funeral home each month.
Jason had very amazing friends from high school, Connor's, OSU, National Cutting Horse Association, Nebraska. The outpouring of love was a very touching phenomenon.
I always want to do something for a family who has had a loss, but sometimes I'm not sure what is best. Here in Tecumseh the first response is always food, but I've been on the receiving end of that so many times it's not funny. There's always too much food. We always call friends and family and tell them to "come and help us eat this elephant." I started taking in the place of food things like ziploc bags and containers, foil, etc. It has been a complete year since Jason died, and I bought my first Kleenex this past week. I bought paper towels and toilet paper for the first time this summer. The paper plates lasted until about February. The people in this town are the most generous people on earth.
After my uncle passed away in San Antonio, Phyllis, my dad and I flew down for the service. They had to order take-out barbeque for us. It's not as if he didn't have friends; he was active in church; he was president of his local AARP group; his funeral was a large one. People down there just don't take food like we do here.
I like small town life.

More sweet memories

2009-09-10T20:31:00.004-05:00

Last night's post triggered some strong, vivid memories for me. When Jason was about three months old, Tony would put him on his back on our bed and bounce the bed. Jason would laugh outloud every time. He loved it. Tony tried it with Allison when she was that same age, and she puckered up and screamed, grabbing at the air trying to find something to hold on to. Don't tell me you can raise boys and girls the same.
Jason was rough and ready from the moment he bacame mobile. He crawled so fast that he could be into something before you even realized he was gone. He played hard and then fell asleep where he was. I have pictures of him asleep in his highchair and standing next to the couch with his feet on the floor and his head lying on the couch sound asleep, and just in random places on the floor.
He had the sweetest blond curly hair that we didn't cut until he was about 18 months. He went from a baby to a little boy in one haircut.
He had an impish side that was obvious from the gleem in his eyes. For some reason he loved to empty things, his toybox, his diaper bag, anything that you put something in, he would empty.
One memory that still makes me laugh happened the first week we moved to Wellston. Jason was 17 months old when we moved there. He and I had made a trip to Edmond and had just returned home when two ladies from the First Christian Church came to visit and bring us a "welcome to Wellston" cake. I had just brought all the groceries into the house, and they were still in bags on the dining area floor. I was trying to pay attention to our guests who later became very dear friends. Deanna Braziel and Betty Ivey and I were trying to get acquainted, and Jason was taking all the groceries out of the bags. He was carrying cans, boxes, etc. everywhere. I was so embarrassed, but now I can just laugh. I would go pick him up, move him to the living room, try to get him playing with his toys, and he would head back to the kitchen. He was one stubborn kid.