Girlfriends in God

As I was making fudge for Christmas, it occurred to me that I'd learned to make candies and rice krispie treats from some grandmotherly ladies at my childhood church.  These same ladies taught my friends and me how to sew simple things and make various crafts.  To this day, a Christmas ornament made for me by one of these ladies hangs in a place of honor on our tree every year.

As I think of these precious lades now, I remember them fondly.  They will always hold a special place in my heart.

I didn't realize it then, but they poured into my life in a meaningful way that would last a lifetime.  As we crafted and baked, I experienced their love and friendship, as well as the love and friendship of the other little girls at the table.  Girls who are still my friends, more than thirty years later.

It caused me to reflect on where I'm at today.  Not yet grandmotherly, but certainly in a role of influence over young children.

I teach Sunday school and have about 15 girls who regularly sit at my table.  Our Sunday morning schedule is packed, and only gives us about 20 minutes of small group time.  And, even that time is structured with an activity and discussion about the lesson...not fellowship.  So, I decided that a baking/craft party was in order.  I coordinated with two other table leaders, and we hosted a party for our girls.

We had a blast.

One girl announced that she'd been so excited the night before that she dreamed it was sprinkling sprinkles.  Candy sprinkles, of course.

In the kitchen we made chocolate dipped pretzel rods.

And in the Gallery we made note cards and magnets.

It was such a special time of fellowship, a short devotion on God's love, and a lot of hugs and laughter.

It was so special to see the girls easily mingling with one another.  Forming friendships.  Connecting.

When I suggested an ice breaker, a 5th grade girl jumped right in and suggested that we all go around the circle and give our name, favorite color and share one unique thing about us.  I now know that green is the favorite color for most of the girls, every girl that came from my group plays soccer, and one girl loves meat on a stick while another is a vegetarian.

I cannot wait for more time to really get to know these girls.

I had to take my boys with me...  They sat at a table across the room and quietly played games.  When we got home, Zach said, "Based on how much fun it sounded like the girls were having, I think you are a really great teacher."  Be. Still. My. Heart.  Best compliment of the day.

Then it occurred to me...  My kids were there.  My kids saw the other leaders and me serving these girls.  They'd helped me purchase the supplies necessary for our party.  They heard the RSVP phone calls coming in.  They saw the other leaders and me setting up tables and cleaning up the mess after.  They saw us being the hands of feet of Jesus...to their peers.  They saw the girls connecting with each other, and connecting with their leaders.  They heard and saw just what it meant to these girls to be loved on in this way.  And Zach knew it when he saw it.

I did not set out for my boys to be a part of this day at all.  After all, it was a Girlfriends in God party.  The boys party is to come soon...  But my boys were there, and they witnessed love and service.  And Zach's heart was impacted.

What a day.

We love because He first loved us.  1 John 4:19

Basketball videos

I am using today (Thursday, Feb. 14) to catch up on...and back date...blog posts.  However, I'm finding that I really should have written this one last weekend, as I've completely forgotten anything that I'd wanted to say.

Oh well.

More than anything, I wanted to share some video of the boys playing basketball since none of our family was able to make it to their games.  And, since I'm so savvy with my smart phone and YouTube these days.  Ha!

My mom came to one of Zach's games last year.  It was the only time she'd ever seen him play basketball.  She really loved all the fanfare that Upward puts into introductions.  Now I'm reminded of her every time the lights dim and the music starts.

Just like last week, I managed to catch one of Luke's baskets on video.  This time I did not accidentally delete it.  Luke had 4 points.

He's a mile away from making this basket, but you've got to admire the effort.

And here he is on both offense and defense.

And, again this week, Zach's team only had 5 players.  No subs, so everyone played the entire game.  These guys never quit!

Zach had 4 points for the game.  And a lot of great blocks, and five shots that almost went in.  And...  When we got home, we realized that he had a fever of 102.  He felt so miserable that he put himself to bed early.  Monday he was diagnosed with strep throat and influenza, so I'd say he had a Michael Jordan game on Saturday.

I really love his jump at the very end of the video.  Happy kid.

And our buddy Benjamin had a basket too.  We've known Benjamin since preschool.

100th Day of Kindergarten

The 100th day of kindergarten is always a fun milestone.  Our school makes a huge fuss over it with an entire [half] day of activities inspired by the number 100.

Parents volunteer to organize and run the day.  I think it gives those parents an appreciation of just how much effort, energy, creativity and required flexibility and quick thinking goes into teaching.

We had 10 stations, each having to do with the number 100.  At one station kids built a snack mix with 10 pieces each of 10 different ingredients.  At another they graphed food items brought in for a food bank.  And at another they participated in the 100's Day Olympics.

I got to run the store!  Big bonus, I got to do it with my friend Erin that I simply do not get to see enough of.

So...  Erin and I helped groups of kids to identify which coins were in their bags (all dimes), discussed the value of a dime, and then counted by 10's to see what our spending budget was at the store.  Naturally, each kid's budget was 100 cents...or $1.  They got to pick from bouncy balls, fancy paper clips, plastic rings, stickers, bookmarks, note pads, etc.  Many came in under budget and got to pick more, several bought items for their siblings...and some went way over budget and had to narrow their purchases to the items they wanted most.  Talk about a real world experience. 

So fun.

International Festival

Perhaps the biggest school project for Zachary this year has been the International Festival.  He had to research his family ancestry, choose a country that his family is from, research that country, write a persuasive paper on why a person should visit that country, read his essay aloud to his class, create a costume that would reflect that country, make a poster and tissue paper flag for his country, and bring a food item from that country to share with the entire grade.  Additionally, students learned several songs from around the world, and performed them for their entire school...including instruments and dancing!

It was an enormous undertaking.  It took a couple of months of preparation - in both his regular class and music.  I'm constantly awed by the excitement, energy and commitment his teachers have for their kids.

With a name like ours, you've got to be German, right?

When I suggested Lederhosen, he wanted to die.  His idea was a t-shirt with the German flag sewn on it.  As it turned out, we found a brand new yellow t-shirt with tags still on at the Goodwill for $2.99.  And I picked up fabric squares at Walmart for $.89/each.  Easy enough.

For food, we settled on Windbeutel (German cream puffs).  We had every intention to make them, but Luke came down with the flu and time got away from me.  Instead, I bought them at Target in the freezer section.  Of course, the box said BELGIAN Cream Puffs in a huge flashing neon print, so I ditched the box and we passed them off as German.  As Zach said, "They're neighbors.  Close enough."

The music program was adorable.  Zach led the entire 3rd grade in the costume parade around the gym.  (Yes, I'm aware that the photo quality is terrible.)

 

 
"Sasha!  Sasha!" was a really great number.  So fun!

And Zach was awesome on the drums in "Kumbaya".

The International Festival was a huge success.  Such a great learning experience for everyone.  We are truly blessed by our school.

A great day of basketball

I'm happy to report that, after blogging for over 4 years, I have finally figured out how to use YouTube.  Scratch that.  I've figured out how to record my kids on my phone, post the video to YouTube and link it here.  I have yet to figure out how to find my videos on my computer.

Whatever.

As is typical for a Saturday in February, we had basketball yesterday.  Luke played at 8am, Zach at 6pm.  Luke had two points.  I managed to catch his basket on video, but accidentally deleted it.  Uh huh, genius...I know.  Sorry, Buddy.

I did better with Zach's game.  Caught one basket on video - his first basket of the season!

Zach came away with a total of 4 points for the game, along with some great blocks and two additional near-misses.

Half of Zach's team was out sick, so we only had 5 players.  They had no subs, and it was the best game of the season!  And, lucky for us, 3 of the 5 kids are good friends.  We really enjoyed watching our boys play together for the entire game.

I love chaos like this...where you've just got to go with the flow and give it your all.

And these boys did.  So proud of them.  Go, TIGERS!

Friday night at the Comets

Bryan and I have a longstanding history with the Comets.  We bought our first season tickets when we were dating, 2001-2002.  They were undefeated...until the playoffs.  Naturally, we had to come back the following season to see if they could take the Championship.  The season after that found us with a newborn at home, so we opted to only purchase half-season tickets.  From then on, we've just attended a game here or there.

I think professional indoor soccer is my favorite sport to watch in person.

I'm pretty sure I lost cool points with Bryan when I told him that last night.

But, the arena is small, so every seat is a good seat.  It's fast paced and often high scoring.  The crowd is energized, but you can still talk to the person sitting next to you.

Here was my view last night.  Luke had his arm around his brother much of the night.  And there were lots of high fives.

 
I love KU basketball, but we sit in the corner, in the last row...and the noise is deafening.  I'm not complaining, just saying.

And Big Jay and Baby Jay made an appearance last night!  There was no MU Tiger in the house.

Now, obviously, the Comets do not have near the fan appeal as our Jayhawks.  So, they have to try a little harder to lure people out to games.  Cheap hotdogs, nachos and sodas...and last night was Mascot Night.  That explains the Jayhawks being an hour and a half away from home.

Look who else we ran into!

And we won the game, 12-11.  It was a blast.

(Why is that storm trooper aiming his weapon at me?  What did I ever do to him?)

Wonderful, fun, personal mail

Starting right after Thanksgiving, I check the mail with anticipation every single day.  Who will we get Christmas cards from today?  Will there be a letter and photos enclosed?

I love personal mail.

Wonderful, fun, personal mail.

But, I don't mail much of anything.

Postage is expensive...but is it worth the little added expense and effort to drop a real letter in the mail as opposed to the quick text or email message?

Recently I've caught myself wishing that my mom had kept a diary.

This morning I dragged boxes out of the basement in search of 15 year old letters and photos from my grandmother.  I never found the specific ones I was looking for.

I did, however, find years of cards and letters from other family and friends when I lived in Florida.  This was before cell phones; back when long distance phone calls cost 15 cents per minute.  A sheet of paper, an envelope and postage cost less than a 5 minute phone call.  So, we wrote.

As a keeper of all things sentimental, I have all of these letters neatly tied together in stacks by year.  With pretty ribbon, of course.

The letters from my mom are in a stack of their own.  I started with them.  I remember having read them in my 20's.  Many of the lines I recalled verbatim.  However, all these years later, I read them with an entirely fresh and more mature perspective.  I didn't always hear what she was trying to say when I was hurt and angry...and barely over 21.  Today I did.  One letter in particular - six pages typed - is totally a diary.  She very openly and vulnerably shares her heart.  I wish I'd understood all those years ago what she was saying...  I'm ever so grateful that I do now.  So very grateful to have her heart in writing...many letters over.  Grateful to hear her voice, her laughter, even her mild swearing with every written word.  (Oh, hell, Tonya...)  She makes me smile.

As I wiped the tears from my eyes, I considered taking some Motrin but headed back to the box of cards and letters instead.  I read for hours.  There are so many letters.  I can recognize the senders by their handwriting.  I love their handwriting.

I came across a note that my brother Jim sent me in 2001.  It is on a scratch piece of paper and was enclosed with a package.  It is not a real letter, and is only a couple of sentences long.  I hugged it.

Yea, I'm cheesy that way.

Dawn and Marci wrote me a lot when I lived in Florida.  I can hear their sarcasm and laughter in their letters.  And their stories - and all the memories - bring wide smiles to my face.  Dawn and Marci frequently doodled or stamped something on their notes.  I'm sure I hardly noticed it then, but the added illustrations make me smile now...remembering how young we were.

Aimee must have written me every other week!  I can hear her excitement and squeals with every triple-underlined word.  Aimee knew how to live.  I cannot think about her without my heart breaking a little all over again, so I'm especially grateful to have all of those crazy letters...and postcards from vacation.  As if I needed to know that she was scuba diving in Hawaii as I was laboring away at work.

Who's idea were postcards anyway?  Obnoxious for the sad recipients who aren't vacationing...but, thank you.

My sister Shanna wrote me also.  One of my favorite letters is about her first pregnancy.  Swollen feet, baby kicking...  I had no clue, as I was still 7 years away from becoming a mother myself.  But, she's sweet, and young, and excited and you can hear it all in that letter.

And there was a precious letter handwritten by my 90+ year old great grandmother.  Wow.

Much to my surprise, there were dozens of love letters and cards from Bryan back when we were dating and newly married.  As the years have passed, we've grown comfortable and it has evidently slipped our minds to woo each other like we used to.  Or, perhaps it's simply a matter of time.  Has the time we used to spend browsing card aisles been absorbed by our kids?  Probably so; however, rereading these cards and letters reminds me of just how important it is to keep wooing my man.

Today's stroll down memory lane was a wonderful one.  I've decided that you definitely don't get the same effect with a text message or an email.  Despite how ridiculously expensive postage is these days, I'm going to write letters again here and there.

And... I'll look for mail from you on occasion.

I love personal mail.

Family skate date

I grew up on ice skates.  Thought I'd compete at the Olympics.

I really wish I had a picture to insert here.  Imagine nine year old me, in my favorite yellow skirt and brand new white Riedell ice skates.

When I asked my students the other day if they knew who Dorothy Hamill was, I was so sad.  They had no clue.  I couldn't stomach it if they didn't know Scott Hamilton, so I dropped the subject.  As I googled his name and caught his birth date out of the corner of my eye, I realize how much I've just aged myself.

But they were legends when I was a kid.  They were the things my little girl dreams were made of.

I still fancy myself a skater.  However, I'm sure that in reality I looked like a baby giraffe on unstable legs when I stepped onto the ice last weekend.  Unfortunately, clean figure eights, Salchows and basic spins do not all come back like riding a bike.

Still, we had a blast.

And I have a great imagination.

I totally think I should take skating lessons again.  Clearly my kids need to.

 

 

 

We {heart} Upward

Basketball is in full swing.  This is Luke's first year, Zach's third.

The teams are assigned in such a way that the goal is to produce teams that are balanced in terms of player ability.  From one season to the next, players and coaches are always different.  However, each of the boys has two friends on their team this year.

Luke is playing with Christina B. and Landon P.

He always has his hands up.

Zachary is playing with Benjamin B. (Christina's brother) and Jacob S.

We have been long time friends/neighbors with each of these kids.  It's a blast to get to play together...and carpooling is always a bonus!  Every time we step foot in the gym at Upward, there are countless familiar faces - some dating back more than 25 years.  We love this program and all of our friends there.

We pray before every game.

Luke is quite a player.  He was the first to score for the entire season, for all age groups.  I don't think he'll ever let us forget that. At his second game, he had 6 points.  Not that we're keeping score...

He has given himself a new nickname.  Luke the Nuke.  I told him that he had to actually earn a nickname like that, and he certainly has.

Zachary is adjusting to his new age bracket, 3rd-4th grade.  He's the lower man on the totem pole this season.  The rules are a little different (free throws when fouled within 2 minutes of the period ending), and the kids are taller than they were last year.  He's a great defensive player and is getting his offensive footing.

Both boys' coaches are very encouraging and focused more on character building than on basketball.  We love this.

The locker room time after the game is always special, as each boy receives a "Star of the Game".  So far, Luke has received the Offensive Star and the Christlike Star and Zachary has received the Defensive Star and Sportsmanship Star.

God always has a plan

My brother received my letter.

I mailed it on Wednesday, January 2.  He received it on his way out the door on Tuesday morning, January 8.  By 8am that same day, I had an email waiting in my inbox...from him.

When I saw his name as the sender...our father's name...I gasped and immediately began trembling.  Bryan asked what was wrong and I bit my lower lip and slowly choked out, "He sent me an email."

The kids hadn't left for school yet, so Bryan's first response was a hurried, "Don't read it." and I quickly snapped the laptop shut.  I was trembling in fear.

I saw that there was no subject and my mind immediately went to, "Does he say in the body of his message never to contact him again?"  I really couldn't stand it.  I paced for a few minutes, then realized that my kids might notice my bizarre silent meltdown.  So, I sat on the couch quietly...and opened a little gift that Zach had made for me at school.  I was seeing spots, but ooh'ed and ahh'ed over his gift just the same.  Then he handed Bryan a gift, which happened to be a DVD of the 3rd grade productions from first semester.  Which, of course, he wanted us to watch right then.  We "watched" them, but I'm not sure either of us actually saw what was on the TV screen.

As soon as the boys left for school, Bryan offered to read the email to me.  Not normally one to want to be read to, I agreed.  I was nearly catatonic - seriously seeing spots - so I am not sure I could have focused my eyes to read it right then if I'd wanted to.  Before he read it, I asked if he was nice.  Bryan assured me that he was.  Next I asked if it was very long, and Bryan said it wasn't.  I [part sarcastically/part seriously] scoffed, "What?!?!  I wrote three pages and he didn't write much back?"  He suggested I wait before assessing...  He read it to me.  And Bryan was right, he was sounding nice enough...  Then he closed in on the end:

"Thanks for taking the time and effort to find me. I knew about you, I even used to have a picture of you when I was a kid, but I guess my experiences with my dad, our dad, kind of soured me on the idea of trying to reach out. Have a great day, and I look forward to hearing from you again."

To which, Bryan and I both teared up.  He'd known.  He'd had a picture.  He looked forward to hearing from me again.  And...  He'd made it a priority to write me back within hours of reading my letter. 

That day, we exchanged eleven emails over a span of 12 hours.  And, just as I sent him what I expected what would be the last email of the night, he impulsively called me.  We talked for another four hours.

We have since talked, emailed or texted at length every day.  He is so very much like me, and not at all like I'd feared he might have been.

Naturally, he googled me...  He says I'm "all over the internet".  As of yesterday, he'd read my entire blog.  Four years worth of ramblings.  He's got impressive determination, endurance and stick-to-it-ive'ness.

I always thought I was writing this blog for my kids' sake - so that, should anything happen to me, they would forever have these words, these stories...  They would know my heart.  It never occurred to me that this blog would one day be used to help my brother get to know me.

Knowing that he was reading caused me to go back and read a little too...  It was nice to revisit my life's story, to see the hand of God...  I am reminded again that God always has a plan.  God never ceases His work.  All things really do work together for the good of those who love Him.  I am both overwhelmed and humbled by His care and constant work in my life.

Everything has come together for this...

As I've looked back over my life, I've come to realize that I really had a lot of healing to do before I was ready to know my brother.  As much as I'd asked about him over the last 15 years, I wasn't ready until just now.  I needed to be at peace with the abuse from my childhood, with my biological father's absence and rejection, issues with my mother, and the passing of each of my parents...  I needed that peace, wholeness, closeness with God in order to wade into this newest journey relying on Him, not reaching out for another person to fill God-sized holes.  There is such freedom, no pressure, no outrageous expectations as my brother and I get to know one another.  Just peace.  And joy.  And fulfillment.

And...  Wholenesss.

Birthday blesssings

In my classes, we celebrate birthdays with a class birthday book.  Each student writes a page to the birthday boy or girl, and my requirement is that they include at least two compliments or words of encouragement for their friend.  These are simple books - nothing fancy - simply a stack of pages stapled together.  Friends write and illustrate whatever is on their hearts, and I write the last page of every book.

Being that we're not in school over the summer, half birthdays were celebrated today - along with a few belated late-December birthdays and the early-January birthdays.  All told, I got to celebrate about fifteen birthdays among my four classes.  In one class alone, we had eight birthdays.

The class with eight birthdays is my most challenging class.  It has the most students, and only one of them is a girl.  It is also the last class of the day, so the kids are getting squirmy.  It is full of energy and the volume is generally loud or louder.  They are also at an incredibly excitable age, so the second anyone gets an idea, they share it with everyone around them...and that generally prompts more sharing.  In a creative class, this is both wonderful and maddening.

But, today, I had the priveledge of setting aside my lesson plan and just focusing on praising and encouraging them for 50 minutes...and giving them the time to do the same.  As I reflected on each of the eight birthday kids, I thought over where they were when I met them, and where they are at today.  I took the time to acknowledge their growth and maturation, and simply savored my favorite things about each child.

In the busyness of trying to get through a lesson or finish a project, it is all too easy to become hurried, tasky and frustrated.  When we slow down and appreciate each person and the journey of learning and growing, it's so much sweeter.

I've always done these books as a gift to the kids, but today they really spoke to me.  My kids are pretty awesome.  All unique, all writing on the pages that are my life.

And to think....  I get paid to do this!  In cold hard cash and countless hugs, drawings and notes.

It could be any day now

I have really fallen off the blogging bandwagon.  Not because I don't have deep thoughts anymore ...my mind never rests... but because I scarcely have the time to sit at a computer for longer than it takes to update Facebook. 

But, the reason I started blogging in the first place is still a valuable one.  I want to be known - by my friends and, most importantly, by my kids.  My boys don't need a written record of every thought I've ever had....but what I wouldn't give right now to have a journal written by my mother or father.

Yes, I do realize that I'm a girl and they're boys ...and they may not care... but I'm writing anyway.  After all, my husband and my brother read my blog ramblings, so there's hope that my boys will too one day.

Without further adieu, let the confused rambling begin...

It occurred to me today that my half-brother might have received my letter and photos today.  More than likely it will arrive tomorrow or Monday, but it could have arrived today.  Of course, the intended purpose of mailing the package was for him to receive it, open it, read it...and call or write me back.  But, suddenly I'm nervous.  I honestly think I'm nervous because this reminds me of a call I made 13 years ago.  I was calling a man with the exact same name as this younger man who will now be left to decide do-I-call-or-don't-I?  When I heard the voice on the other end of the line all those years ago, I said:  "Hello.  Is this K?  This is Tonya S.  How are you?"  He replied saying, "Who?"  To which I repeated myself and added, "Your daughter."  I was nervous and feeling a bit awkward.  He was in shock, caught completely off guard.  He knew who I was as soon as he'd heard my name.  I could hear it in his voice.

As I was cleaning house today, moving furniture around, doing laundry, repacking what was left of the Christmas decor...I realized that I might be caught just as off-guard by this man's son, my half-brother, catching me in the middle of something, saying: "Hi, This is K.  Your brother."  What exactly do you say to that?  (Of course, I will want to squeal and start talking really fast:  "PRAISE GOD!!!  You got my letter!  And you called!!!  What do you think?  What do you know?  What do you look like?  Are you tall?  I'm tall.  Our dad was really tall.  My kids are really tall.  I have a wide nose and our father's eyes.  So does our grandmother.  And my youngest son.  How about you???  Do you have red hair?!?!")  Thirteen years ago, I said, "How are you?" and from there the conversation somehow managed to flow.  I don't know how.  

Waiting to hear from my brother is all just so reminiscent of that first phone call to my father.  Surreal, really.

I have several hundred questions - 30 years to catch up on - but it's a first phone call / letter, so I'm going to need to pace myself.

Not only that...  But, if I'm being completely honest, I'm having to deal with the ...disappointment, anger, grief, I'm not quite sure what to call it... that our father put us in this situation to begin with.  If he hadn't walked out on us, his children wouldn't be complete strangers to one another.  And we wouldn't have been complete strangers to him.  I wouldn't be wondering how much information is enough, but not too much, to share upfront with my brother.

But, in spite of this uncertainty, I am at peace with where we're at today.  I had known of my brother's existence for 15 years, but did not even know for sure what his name was.  I knew which state he'd lived in when he was five, but had no idea where to look today.  And then, unexpectedly, I met someone whose mother-in-law is a Private Investigator, and 15 hours later, I had my brother's name and address in my hands.  It couldn't be that easy if it wasn't meant to be; if it wasn't the right time.  Whether or not he writes or calls, I believe I was meant to write when I did.  Silence, if that's what comes, may not be "no", but rather "not yet".  I know how much it has taken to get me to this place, and I have eight years (and 15 years of processing time!) on my brother.  If he's silent, I will assume that it means "not yet".  And he will know that I'm here; that I'm ready.  I do hope and pray that one day - preferably sooner rather than later - I will know my father's other child.  My brother.