This is by ee cummings

my father moved through dooms of love
through sames of am through haves of give,
singing each morning out of each night
my father moved through depths of height

this motionless forgetful where
turned at his glance to shining here;
that if(so timid air is firm)
under his eyes would stir and squirm

newly as from unburied which
floats the first who,his april touch
drove sleeping selves to swarm their fates
woke dreamers to their ghostly roots

and should some why completely weep
my father's fingers brought her sleep:
vainly no smallest voice might cry
for he could feel the mountains grow.

Lifting the valleys of the sea
my father moved through griefs of joy;
praising a forehead called the moon
singing desire into begin

joy was his song and joy so pure
a heart of star by him could steer
and pure so now and now so yes
the wrists of twilight would rejoice

keen as midsummer's keen beyond
conceiving mind of sun will stand,
so strictly(over utmost him
so hugely) stood my father's dream

his flesh was flesh his blood was blood:
no hungry man but wished him food;
no cripple wouldn't creep one mile
uphill to only see him smile.

Scorning the Pomp of must and shall
my father moved through dooms of feel;
his anger was as right as rain
his pity was as green as grain

septembering arms of year extend
yes humbly wealth to foe and friend
than he to foolish and to wise
offered immeasurable is

proudly and(by octobering flame
beckoned)as earth will downward climb,
so naked for immortal work
his shoulders marched against the dark

his sorrow was as true as bread:
no liar looked him in the head;
if every friend became his foe
he'd laugh and build a world with snow.

My father moved through theys of we,
singing each new leaf out of each tree
(and every child was sure that spring
danced when she heard my father sing)

then let men kill which cannot share,
let blood and flesh be mud and mire,
scheming imagine,passion willed,
freedom a drug that's bought and sold

giving to steal and cruel kind,
a heart to fear,to doubt a mind,
to differ a disease of same,
conform the pinnacle of am

though dull were all we taste as bright,
bitter all utterly things sweet,
maggoty minus and dumb death
all we inherit,all bequeath

and nothing quite so least as truth
--i say though hate were why men breathe--
because my Father lived his soul
love is the whole and more than all

Oh the deep, deep love of Jesus

Usually when people ask me what I'm learning in my Christian walk, I have a smattering of vague ideas that I'm working out in my mind. I can't pin down what is going on in my heart and mind, although I know that God is working. Lately, it's been very clear to me that God has been telling me that until I know how beloved and treasured I am I will not be able to love others the way I should. When we are reaching to others from a position of belovedness, how able to love people we will be! Last week Greg taught in his sermon that Jesus was not effected by other people's view of him. He didn't care whether they liked him or didn't like him. The only view that mattered to him was the view of his Father. When he was baptized in Matthew 3, his Father said “This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.” He was secure in knowing that he was beloved and he pleased his Father. This freed him up to love. Likewise, we are so deeply loved. We are not transformed by guilt or duty but by the love that we know the Father has for us. Don't be afraid to embrace that love. We think that we don't deserve love or that God couldn't be serious about loving us.

I want to let the love of God penetrate my entire being so that I can love people without fear or bias. I want to be secure in his love. I want to be free of what people think or don't think. I want God alone to possess my heart so that I can be free of feeling like I am never enough.

Zephaniah 3:17 The LORD your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing.




Currently listening to: Satellite by Guster

This is among the top ten things that have ever been created in my class

I assigned my 10th graders a research project on India since we are about to do some work with the book Nectar in a Sieve. In the computer lab we have a really cool program that allows us to monitor what the students are working on from the computer that we've logged into. When I saw this, I couldn't help but laugh and quickly capture the image.

Without further ado:



It may be a long road to the writing test in March. I look forward to seeing my kids grow. and to collecting many more delightful assignments from them.

Today was the first day back at school. I was as ready as I was ever going to be. Seeing my kids from last year in the hall, and getting their hugs as they walked by was such a delight for me. I really invested and loved those kids. They were my first group of students and they will always hold a special place in my heart. I even miss them. I doubt they know how dear they are to me though I've told them. The funny thing is that each new class that I got filled my heart with deep love. How can my heart already be full with them after one day? I cannot wait to see how they grow and learn this year. I can't wait to grow and learn with them.

My job is a lot of work and energy but I know it is worth it.

Sometimes I resent the fierce independence that due to necessity I live out of.

an unkind note to the thoughtless of the world

When boys say things like:

You're beautiful, smart, funny and you love God. Any guy would be happy to date you.

and doesn't follow it up with: so pick me

it makes me want to castrate all men, thus I have composed a letter for just such morons.

Dear "men"--

Please don't mention my sparkling qualities when you don't give flip. Someday someone will say those things, mean them and I won't believe them. It will be your fault. It doesn't matter how kind your words seem, you are in essence rejecting me.

No love,

Emily

My Papa died yesterday afternoon of stage four stomach cancer. I really love him, and miss him but I'm glad that he's not hurting anymore.

The Summer Day
Mary Oliver

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

Thanks, Jackie Chan!

If you know me, you know that I am constantly looking for the spiritual in the non-spiritual. Mainly this is because I don't really believe that there is a difference. I believe that every act is spiritual, from the food that you put into your body to the movies you watch or the time you go to bed. I believe that God reveals himself through literature, people's faces or the trees in the park. This might sound new age-like to you, but you must remember that God allows those things to be created, or created them personally, so even if there's no intention to point people to God He is fully able to use anything he wishes to call my heart and yours closer to His.

Last night one of my roommates and I decided that we would go to the dollar theater. We saw the very religious film "The Karate Kid." I thought I would declare my sarcasm, as this is the written word and it's not always so easy to tell. There's a point in the movie when Mr. Han, the karate kid's mentor, tells him "Being still and doing nothing are two different things."

Isn't that a lesson for us? Over and over in His word he encourages His people to be still and know that He is God. (Job 37:14, Ps 46:10, 1 Kings 19:10-13) I would so rather being doing something. We feel that there is no productivity in stillness, but unless we are still we cannot hear God. Being still is not the same thing as doing nothing- it is allowing your heart to be communicated with by the God of the universe.

How does it with your heart this morning?

As you see more clearly that your vocation is to be a witness to God's love in this world, and as you become more determined to live out that vocation, the attacks of the enemy will increase. You will hear voices saying, "You are worthless, you have nothing to offer, you are unattractive, undesirable, unloved. The more you sense God's call, the more you will discover in your own soul the cosmic battle between God and Satan. Do not be afraid. Keep deepening your conviction that God's love for you is enough, that you are in safe hands, and that you are being guided every step of the way." - The Inner Voice of Love, Henri J.M. Nouwen

A Tribute and a Baby

Sunday afternoon I drove home to bring my parents back their van. I'd borrowed it to move. I was also planning on picking up my cat Bobbie to take her back to our new apartment. When I got home we couldn't find her and she wasn't in any of the regular places. I began to walk around the yard calling my cat, wondering where she was. I rounded the house, walking toward the corner of the porch when I froze because I saw something lying in the woods. My hand flew to my mouth, tears flooded my eyes as all of a sudden I realized where my cat was. Dad was there almost instantly and I just sat down in shock on the front porch. Bobbie was going to be 16 years old in November. Patches, Chelsea's cat from the same litter had died in February and I could tell that Bobbie was getting older. It wasn't quite a surprise, yet you can only prepare for death so much.

Dad and buried her out in the backyard. I felt really silly crying, but when I tried to hold my tears back that headache arose that begs you to release your emotions. What made me cry the hardest was when Dad asked me to get some flowers. I grabbed two off of the butterfly bush and quickly laid them down on her cat grave. Dad though, walked all around the yard finding all the flowers he could and arranging them around mine. Watching Dad was just really emotional for me for some reason.



Bobbie was a really good friend to me, and I'm glad that she died while she was at home in her woods. It was for the best, really. And she wasn't in any pain.

As I was driving home without Bobbie I began to think about how I would like to get a kitten. I had already paid the pet deposit, and the beginning of August was the best time to get one because once school started up I would have no free time for a baby pet. When I got home my roommate Emily and I began to look online for kittens. I found one ad on craigslist and when I called the lady, she told me to come that night if I wanted. Emily and I weren't doing anything better so we ventured 45 minutes to Lexington, and the middle of nowhere to find out what kind of kittens she had. We told one of our friends where we were going so if we were kidnapped he could find us. He told us to text him every 10 minutes so he knew we were okay, but of course our reception dropped when we pulled in the driveway. We were sure we were going to die. The lady brought out her kittens and I told her I wanted a boy. There were three black little boys and one tiger stripped one. Emily picked up the tiger stripped one and he just sat there while the three little black kittens squirmed all over the place. Emily passed the tiger kitten to me and he sat in my lap too. We were pretty much sold. That's how it happened that I got a kitten on the same day that Bobbie died.

It's not that I don't miss Bobbie. I cried like a baby yesterday while I was looking at pictures. I just have a new cat friend, and he makes me really happy.

Italics is 6 weeks old. He's a little tiger kitten with beautiful blue eyes that will change, sadly. He already knows I'm his Mom, and I think it's because I slept on the bathroom floor with him the first night because I'm weak and smitten. I plan to make him a mama's boy. He also has a best friend who happens to be Emily's rabbit, Marshall. They play together and it's really cute. Last night they both sat in Marshall's cage without any prompting. We're hoping they stay friends even after Italics grows up.


Here are some baby pictures: