Tag: piano teacher

In Memory of Ms Wong

I just received news today that Miss Jennie Kuk-Ying Wong has passed away. She was my piano teacher when I attended Biola University. She was the head of the Piano Department, and Aunt Laurie, who taught me piano in middle school and high school had also been one of her students years before. Ms. Wong, who never married or had children, told me that I was essentially, as her student’s student, her granddaughter. 

I was intimidated by Ms. Wong. And that’s putting it mildly. She had the highest standards and was not quick to compliment or praise. When I am nervous I have a tendency to crack jokes and make little comments. I remember sitting in lessons and I would say some joking comment and she would pause and just look at me, blank faced, almost in disbelief, and then shake her head and tap the piano book to get me back on focus. But occasionally she would flash a quick smile and that felt like a big win for me. 

During my first semester I developed a bad tendonitis that kept me from being able to practice. Ms Wong said that she knew of a place that did some kind of shock therapy to help people get a quick recovery. She had never been there, but was really interested in finding out if it worked. She asked if I’d be interested in trying it. I said yes and she made the appointment for me and then drove me there. It felt so bizarre to be in Ms Wong’s car with her. She was not the talkative type, and neither was I, and we drove mostly in silence. When we got to the reception area, we walked up the desk to get signed in, me slightly behind Ms Wong, very nervous. The receptionist looked at me and then looked at Ms Wong and asked in a stage-whisper, “Does your student speak English?” Ms Wong assured her that I did and we went on with the appointment. But later, when we left the office, my arms now tingling, Ms Wong laughed so long and so hard. It was a new experience for her, a Chinese woman, to be asked if her student, a white American, spoke English. On the way back from the appointment, Ms Wong took us out for lunch at a Chinese restaurant. She ordered for me and soon a large bowl of egg drop soup arrived at the table for me. I do not like Egg Drop Soup. But, I picked up my spoon and ate my soup, because it would be inconceivable to do anything else. 

My second year under Ms Wong I started to relax more. Probably because I started to realize that she actually liked me. The real turning point though happened late in the semester. It was winter time and finals were looming and we were all practicing a ridiculous number of hours a day to get ready for piano juries. It was a Thursday evening and I was standing in the lobby of the music building looking up at the cafeteria which was next door. Ms Wong walked by and saw me standing there, just staring, and she came up to me and asked me what I was doing. I explained that I only had two meals left on my meal plan for the week and I was debating whether I should go up and eat supper at the cafeteria or take the long walk back to my dorm and have a bowl of cereal. She nodded and said goodnight and left. I ended up finishing my evening of practice and homework and then eating some dry cereal before I crashed into bed. 

The next day one of Ms Wong’s other students told me there was a note for me on Ms Wong’s studio door. This was a typical way that she communicated with her students so I went to see what it said. The note told me there was something for me in the fridge in her studio. Since the studio was empty at the time, I let myself in and peaked into the little dorm fridge Ms Wong kept there. Inside was a tupperware with my name on it, filled with rice and some kind of Asian meat and vegetable dish. It was delicious. I was a little embarrassed the next time I saw her and thanked her for the food. But I think it broke down some of the formality we usually had. I remember she talked to me more. About music, her own experiences, students she had taught. 

Now, when I think of her, I picture her looking up at me (she was very short) and shaking her head and then laughing about some comment I had just made. The other thing I think of are her hands. They were small, square, so wrinkled and so soft. And when she touched the piano she would make sounds come out that were impossibly beautiful. When she played it brought to my mind rich velvet and gold, deep royal blues and reds. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything more beautiful than her playing. 

I left Biola after two years and kept in touch with Ms Wong for several years through letters. But eventually we fell out of touch. 

She was strong and formidable, stern and intimidating. A genius. And she was also generous and kind and an amazing teacher. I am a richer person for having been her student. 

Basking in Kindess

Lately, I’ve been thinking about the kindness of God. I have been adapting to being a stay-at-home mom whose kids are now all in school all day. Trying to figure out what I should be doing with the extra windows of time I suddenly have. I teach piano lessons one full day a week and one evening a week, and it takes at least three full days to keep up with all the laundry, grocery shopping, cleaning and errands, plus room to handle all the non routine things like doctor’s appointments etc which left me with one day during school hours where I felt like I really could be doing more with my time. And I’ve worried about it. Should I go volunteer somewhere? A homeless shelter? A soup kitchen? Tutor kids in need? I had no idea what I should be doing. And I felt like God had something in mind and it would be obvious when I found it. 

Now, do I like volunteering? It really depends on what the task is. I am very capable of talking to strangers, but I’m shy and introverted and it takes a lot out of me to make myself do that. I would much prefer to be sweeping the floor in the back room than to be in a position where I am talking to lots of people. So, I didn’t jump into anything. Just waited. 

But, this goes a little deeper. I think most of my life I have lived in expectation that I am the one who needs to do the hard things. There’s not enough cookies for everyone, I’ll go without. The cat threw up on the floor, I’ll clean it up. We all just had a fun time at the party, now I’ll clean up all the mess. Part of that is just being an adult with kids. It’s the adult’s job to sacrifice and take on the harder, less pleasant tasks. But, I think it goes deeper than that. And I’m struggling to put it into words, but the closest I can come to is, “God is always going to expect me to do things that I don’t really enjoy and that require a lot of self-sacrifce, because someone needs to do it, and I and I am dependable, and in the middle of it all, it will make me build character.” 

So, with all that background in mind, a couple weeks ago I attended a women’s bible study at the church where my children go to school. And during introductions another friend mentioned I played piano, and long story short, the choir teacher for my kids school who was also at the Bible study revealed that she could really use someone to play piano for her choir classes and performances, was I interested? Um, yes. 

And I walked out of the Bible Study that evening just stunned at the kindness of God. If someone asked me what my dream volunteer job was, I would have said anything involving music. But of course, that’s frivolous. No one actually NEEDS someone to play piano for them during school hours… Except for the choir teacher at my kids’ school!

I know this is all part of my journey to understanding the love of God for me. And what a wonderful journey it is. 

Because Your lovingkindness is better than life, My lips shall praise You. Thus I will bless You while I live; I will lift up my hands in Your name.Psalm 63: 3-4

Shame

I haven’t written in a while and I’ve been trying to decide whether I even want to start writing again. It has been easier to not write. Easier to not think about things too deeply. Easier to not expose all my faults and weaknesses to the world. 

Yesterday, things came to a head mentally, when I finally put a name to what I was feeling and what has been hindering me in many aspects of life. 

Shame.  

I have been thinking about trying to expand my piano teaching next school year. I sat down and was trying to figure out  how to write a flier of what I am offering. On a whim, I looked up some other piano teachers in the area to see how they advertised and what they offered. And as I read through some of their qualifications and expertise and experience and all that they had to offer, I found myself shutting down. What am I doing? I don’t have all those qualifications. I don’t have that kind of experience. Do I even have a right to call myself a teacher? Am I just being pretentious to think I can do this? And I closed my computer and walked away from my project. Overwhelmed with a yucky feeling of shame. Who am I? I’m nothing. 

I’ve been thinking about my blog this week. Mostly because three different people who I don’t think even read my blog that much, said something specific to me about how important it was that I was writing. And my thoughts immediately went to the realm of shame. Who am I to write a blog? I don’t have anything to say. I’ve already said whatever I had to offer, now I’m done, and writing more is just boring people. Who am I? I’m nothing. 

This morning I was catching up on the reading plan our church is doing. I was about a week behind, so I was settled in to read a good size chunk. I got to Acts 10 and the story of Peter having a vision where a big sheet descends from heaven, full of all kinds of animals, birds, reptiles etc, that the Jews were forbidden to eat in their law because they were unclean. And a voice from heaven tells Peter to kill and eat. Peter responds, “By no means Lord; for I have never eaten anything that is common or unclean.” Then the voice from heaven responds “What God has made clean, do not call common.” As the story progresses, we learn that this vision was to prepare Peter for the fact that the Gospel was for the Gentiles too, not just the Jews. Which, as  Gentile myself, is a pretty significant and wonderful event. 

But as I was reading, I found myself stopped abruptly, like running into a wall, when I read those words, “What God has made clean, do not call common.” Because this is what I am doing. God has said one thing about me and I’m saying the total opposite. 

I’m in a women’s Bible study right now and we are doing a study on Ephesians. We are only halfway through chapter three at the moment. But I’d like to make a non-comprehensive list of all the things God says that I am, that I’ve found just in the first couple chapters. 

I am blessed in Christ.

I am chosen in Him.

I am holy and blameless before him.

I have redemption through his blood and the forgiveness of my trespasses.

His grace is lavished on me.

I have obtained an inheritance.

I have been predestined to be to the praise of his glory.

I am sealed with the Holy Spirit.

I have been raised up with him and seated in the heavenly places.

I have been created in Christ Jesus for good works which God prepared beforehand.

I have been brought near by the blood of Christ.

I have been reconciled to God through the cross.

I have access to the Father.

I am a fellow citizen with the saints and a member of the household of God.

God says I have made you clean. Don’t call yourself common. 

And so I am trying. Again. To have faith (Lord strengthen my faith!). To believe I am who God says I am. 

I have adult children. I say these things to them all the time. You learn by making mistakes. Nobody expects you to be perfect, just keep trying. Of course you don’t have experience. You’re just getting started. It will come with time. Don’t worry about other people’s expectations. Just do your best. And if you fail, get up and try again. And I can say all these things to my children, because they are my kids and I know them, and I know that they are wonderful and gifted and I have all confidence that their lives are important and the things that they do, no matter how small, are all part of a bigger picture of who they are becoming and what they will do over the course of their lifetimes. 

And how much more does God see about me and who I am in Him. And he says, “What God has made clean, do not call common.” 

Who am I? In the worlds’ eyes, I don’t measure up to a lot. In my own eyes, I don’t measure up to a lot. But God. He has something different to say. 

So, I’m going to keep trying to become a better piano teacher as I gain experience over time and learn from my mistakes and keep working at improving. And I’m going to try to write more. Because it’s something God has given me to do. And I’ll trust that he knows what he is doing. 

The Power of Small Changes

This past week I’ve had something unusual happen. I’ve been waking up in a good mood, feeling happy. As someone who has spent her entire life fighting lowgrade depression which occasionally morphs into full blown deep depression, waking up feeling happy feels strange. It’s not that I normally wake up in a bad mood. It’s just usually very neutral. Yes, I’m awake. New day. Better get moving. 

I find myself kind of poking this happiness. What are you doing here? Isn’t there something that I should be worried about or feeling upset about? I find myself examining every aspect of my life. Am I being a good mom, wife, friend? Am I using my time well? And while everything can always improve, I feel like everything is moving in the right direction. Huh.  

Is happiness simply the lack of conflict and problems? I hope not, otherwise, I can count on this disappearing pretty quickly. Life has a way of throwing stuff at you at a pretty regular pace. 

But, I don’t think that’s what it is. I think that I am finally seeing the fruit of a lot of small decisions and disciplines I’ve been slowly implementing. I think allowing myself a good six months to just sit with my grief when my foster daughter left was the beginning. Then tackingly my health with diet and exercise and working on getting back into music. All individual choices that have required daily discipline, but I am starting to see fruit, and easing of depression seems to be one of those good benefits. 

I was thinking about this same concept in the realm of parenting. I have concerns for some of my kids. Things I want to see changed. Things that worry me. And this morning as I sat at the breakfast table, my youngest sitting in my lap having a cuddle before school, I thought, this is how change happens. One day at a time. Me consistently loving them, pouring into them, providing a peaceful home where their needs are met. Correcting unwanted behavior as it happens. 

Sometimes when I am dwelling on things that are going wrong with my kids, I want something big and drastic that I can implement that will solve all the problems and fix it immediately. But that is rarely what works. Instead it is small changes, small choices, daily disciplines. 

For example, my son was having a really negative attitude about school starting up again. Everything he said was negative. His attitude was horrible and he was angry and in a bad mood constantly. After checking out the facts and realizing that the only real problem he was having was that he didn’t want to stop summer break where he could play all day and resented having to do actual work every day, I wanted his attitude to change immediately. I wanted this negativity to stop. I lectured him quite a bit. Surely if he just faced the facts, he would accept it and move on. Nope. No change. I finally implemented a “GOOD ATTITUDE” chart. Every day after school he had to tell me three good things that happened that day. And then he could tell me one thing that was challenging. Each day he could get a sticker for doing that, and every week that he filled his chart with stickers, he would get a dollar. 

The first day was comical in how hard it was for him to tell me three good things. It took him all afternoon and it was like he was fighting a lot of inner demons to be able to get the words out his mouth. (He really wanted the dollar, so he persevered.) The next day was a little easier.  By the end of the week he was getting in the car after school ready to tell me his three good things right away. By the end of the second week he had already forgotten about the chart. The negativity had ended and each day he was able to casually mention good things that happened during the day. And his mood had vastly improved. One small discipline, implemented daily. Long term results. 

I think it’s tied up with faith and hope. I have faith that God’s word is true, and I have hope that if I follow God’s precepts, I will see fruit which will come at the right and proper time. And for that, I am thankful. 

What is God’s Will for my Life?

I’ve been thinking about how hard it is to discern God’s will for your life. 

I have started taking piano lessons again. I’ve been doing it for one month. I’m loving it. I’m practicing every day and my teacher is amazing. I’m seeing some really big improvements as I follow her direction. I feel like something was hibernating inside of me for a long time and it’s slowly being awakened. But I’m fighting a battle with guilt. 

Is this really the best use of your time? Are you taking away from your kids by doing this? Isn’t this rather selfish? Are you wasting family resources? Is this really necessary? Shouldn’t you be out doing ministry in your spare time? How is this ever going to turn into a job that will help your family down the road? You are definitely being selfish. 

Now, I’m not entertaining these thoughts. They come, I brush them away. They come again. I push them away again. I’m not inviting them in and wallowing in them but, they do keep coming. 

Our foster daughter of three years left this last December. I have spent this year kind of recovering from that. A lot of emotions to process. I feel like I am finally in a place where I’m ready to be out in the world again, but I’ve been at a bit of a loss as to what I should be doing with myself. Serving people is a key part of my faith. Love God. Love People. And right now, I don’t feel like I’m doing much serving. There are a million ways to get involved in serving here in our community. So many organizations with boots on the ground who always need more volunteers. Finding a place to serve is not the issue. The issue is figuring out what God wants me to be doing in this very moment. 

In the past I’ve learned to not get too worried about this subject. Without fail, God has always brought people into our lives for us to serve and minister to. I have felt like my main responsibility has been  to be willing and ready. And that is where I’m at right now. Ok Lord, I’m willing and ready to do whatever you want me to do. In the meantime, I’m going to do the work that I already have in front of me which is to take care of my family. Make new friends with the people I am meeting. Go to church. Read my Bible. And music. For whatever reason, I have felt the urge to get back into music. And God has opened doors for me to be able to teach again. And to reconnect with my piano teacher. And be able to pay for lessons. And for those lessons to just happen to be close by and at a time when I can still manage school pick ups and drop offs. 

So yeah, it feels like I’m walking in the right direction. But guilt speaks loudly. Surely it’s not God’s will for me to be doing something I actually enjoy? Isn’t serving God supposed to just be painful sacrifice? 

I tell my older kids, when they ask the Million Dollar Question, How do I know God’s will for my life? I tell them, God has given you gifts and abilities and talents. Start using them. He gave them to you for a purpose. You aren’t going to go wrong doing the things that you were inherently made for. Don’t just sit waiting for some great epiphany. Get yourself moving using your gifts and then God can direct your steps as you move forward. 

So here I am, taking my own advice. 

Transition!

Hello all. LIfe has been flying by, so much going on since the last time I wrote. 

My kids are all back in school now. My teen who was away for the summer finally got home yesterday. My oldest who has spent the summer with us only has a week left here. Two of the kids’ sports have already started up again. My husband and I celebrated twenty-four years of marriage. And more! 

I have decided to take this year and explore the role of music in my life again. Right after high school I did two years of piano performance at a university, then took a year off and got married, had kids etc. I’ve taught piano lessons here and there as I’ve had time, but pregnancies and babies and later, foster kids, have all cut those short. Now I find myself in a place where all my kids are in school and I feasibly have some more time to do other things. So, I have five piano students starting this week and I started taking piano lessons for myself again. Trying to see if I can get myself back up to speed. 

I haven’t started teaching yet, but I’m excited about it. And I can say that I have thoroughly been enjoying my piano lessons. It feels good to be challenging myself again. 

By the way, I’m still sticking to a healthier diet and exercise plan. I’ve gone down two clothing sizes and I’m feeling a lot more energetic. Woohoo.

All of that to say, there has been a lot of transitioning going on in our household these past couple weeks. 

Transition is hard. We like our routines and knowing what to expect and when that suddenly disappears, it feels really stressful. Even if it’s moving to something good. I’ve been reminding myself of this as I deal with irritable children or I find myself getting overwhelmed by small things. 

We’re transitioning. We’re transitioning. It’s going to be ok. This will get better soon. 

Today in the Bible reading program I’m doing with my church (we all read the same scriptures in the Bible App and then we can comment and see each other’s comments), we read Psalm 131.

Verse 2 says, 

“But I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother; like a weaned child is my soul within me.”

My friend made a comment on this verse, pointing out that a weaned child has learned how to trust their mother. They now have confidence that their needs are going to be met. And this was my prayer this morning, that all of my children would have that same confidence in God. As they go through transitions and changes that they would be in a place of calm and peace. Yeah, everything is stressful and new and different, but God hasn’t changed. He’s still here helping me. I’m not alone. I can trust Him. It’s going to be ok.

In Memory of My Aunt

I just got news that my Aunt Rachel passed away a couple hours ago. She had been fighting a long hard battle with cancer and today was the end. 

 

And I sit here. Feeling numb. 

 

I haven’t been in touch with my aunt, besides the occasional FB message, in years. Lots of reasons. Family is complicated. My relationship with my aunt was complicated. 

 

But, there was a time when it wasn’t. 

 

When I was six and half, we moved back to Kentucky from Haiti. My mother was planning on returning to school to become a Physician’s Assistant and we were looking at being in the States for the next five years. We settled into a little trailer on my Grandparents farm in Eastern Kentucky. My grandparents were still living in Haiti as missionaries, and my Aunt Rachel and her two children and husband were living in my grandparents house. 

 

We were now neighbors. 

 

This was the mid 80s. My aunt homeschooled at a time when it wasn’t popular. She had an opinion about everything, and taught me the art of discussing a broad array of subjects. She was one of the most interesting people I have ever met. 

 

She taught me how to play piano. She would sit down and start playing something really fun, and then if we kids showed any interest at all, she was quick to sit us down and show us how to do it ourselves. She taught all of us kids (my two cousins, my brother and I, my next-door best friend and her sister) all kinds of fun duets on the piano. When I showed even more interest, she taught me about chords and inversions, and then she taught me how to play Fur Elise and how to jazz up Silent Night. She would sit and play Chopin and I would sit next to her, watching her fingers fly over the keys, mesmerized. 

 

Every summer my aunt would get on a kick. One summer it was roller skating. She made sure we all had skates and then made a big space on her porch and we would skate and skate. She taught us how to skate backwards, and do twists and turns, tricks. We would limbo with skates on. Another summer it was jump rope. She got out a big rope and attached it to a post on her porch and showed us how to swing it and then taught us how to jump in the front door, and jump in the back door. We learned how to jump with the steady beat of my aunt turning, the rope at just the right height, and then we learned how to jump to the erratic turnings of my little cousin who could barely get the rope high enough for us to get under. We knew all kinds of jump rope rhymes and had so much fun. 

 

One summer my aunt put up a volleyball net in her yard and taught us all how to play volleyball. She was an avid nature person too, and she knew the names of all the animals and plants and birds. She was a wealth of knowledge.

 

My aunt also had ponies. Ponies that she trained herself. She trained them how to respond to word commands and very gentle nudges of the reins. Heaven help the child who pulled on the bit or was rough with the ponies in any way. She taught us how to saddle them up and how to ride and we would spend hours riding through the wood trails. 

 

One summer she got a buggy and taught one of the ponies how to pull the buggy, then we would ride up and down the holler road in the buggy singing folk songs. 

 

In the winter, if we got enough snow, she would hitch up an old sleigh of sorts to the pony and would let us ride behind, whooshing through the snow. 

 

Later, she got her kids into gymnastics and she persuaded me to take gymnastic lessons with her kids for a while. My cousins far out-paced me, they had natural talent that I was lacking. But I remember her willingness to help drive me to the gym so I could learn too. 

 

She loved animals. Especially birds. She always had a pet bird of some sort perched on her shoulder or her head. At various times she had ponies, dogs, cats, snakes, pet rats, ducks, hedgehogs, frogs in aquariums, and a whole host of different kinds of birds. And there are probably some other animals that I have forgotten about. It was a child’s paradise. 

 

When I moved away at the age of eleven, back to Haiti, she was a constant correspondent. Her letters and cards were always full of stories and words of encouragement. She was convinced that all of us kids were the smartest kids in the world and was sure that we would be amazingly successful as adults. 

 

When I think of my aunt, those are the years that I remember. 

 

For various, complicated reasons, we fell out of touch, only keeping a hazy eye on each other via FB. But, when I heard that she had cancer and was not doing well, I reached out to her. Thanked her for being such a wonderful aunt to me when I was a child. Thanked her for passing on her love of music. Told her how, when I teach piano, I always think of the way she taught me, and I try to emulate her. 

 

She wrote back, kind words. 

 

I am glad that we had that moment. 

 

And my heart is numb. 

 

Thank you Aunt Rachel for being An Aunt Extraordinaire and for investing in my childhood. I pray for peace for your children and everyone else that you have left behind. 

 

Love in a Bag of Socks

Do you ever feel like the whole universe is against you, and everything that can go wrong is going wrong, and WHY ME?? And all that? And then, there is just this moment right in the middle when you suddenly realize that God is still in control and He still loves you, and it’s going to be ok.

 

My story begins with socks. Let’s talk about socks. 

 

Yesterday, Monday morning, as I’m trying to herd a bunch of kids out the door to school, the recurring theme I’m hearing from each child walking down the steps is, I’M OUT OF SOCKS!! I NEED SOCKS!! 

 

Oh no. I forgot to do laundry this Saturday and it sounds like the kids aren’t going to make it to my next laundry day on Tuesday. I direct all the kids to go hunt out my Odd Sock Basket and just find anything that will fit. And if they find some that are kind of the same color or style, that would be great. I mentally add to my TO DO list, wash socks tonight. Which kind of makes me shudder cause that means I will need to go and gather laundry from all the bedrooms upstairs and try and find socks and it’s going to be complicated. Also complicated is the fact that it is Monday, the one day I go to a homeschooling co-op and teach piano lessons and my little boys attend preschool. Andy and I are also supposed to meet some friends of ours at a restaurant this evening. Hmm. Sock washing is not going to be an easy task. 

 

The day is busy. I finish at co-op and then take my tired little boys to the eyeglass place to pick up some replacement glasses we’d ordered. While I’m at the eyeglass place I get a call from the school asking me to come for an emergency meeting. I load up my boys who are starting to get fussy now and we rush over to the school. Have the meeting, during which my three year old loses it completely and goes into full-meltdown mode. We quickly finish the meeting then I have to run out to the car with the screaming three year old and the four year old so we can get in the car and quickly get into the end of the car line to pick up the kids. Three year old has gone insane by this time and I am ignoring all looks from other parents while I bodily carry him to the car while he makes as much noise as possible. I am stepping off the curb and somehow mess it up completely and turn my ankle, almost dropping the screaming child. I am now standing there gasping in pain, trying not to swear too loudly, three year old is still screaming and I don’t know how I’m going to walk the rest of the way to the car. 

 

A teacher who was getting into her car witnesses the whole thing and she gets out of her car and grabs hold of the screaming child and helps me walk him to the car while I limp along. By the time I get to the car, the initial pain has worn off, and I can move my ankle around. Ok. This is going to be alright. I get in the car, buckle the writhing child (I don’t know what happened, I have never had this particular child meltdown in such a spectacular manner), and drive over to pick up my kids. 

 

The next couple hours are filled with talking to kids, dealing with some annoying mail, and trying to get supper cooked so I can feed the kids and go out with my husband. While I’m cooking supper I suddenly realize that I never washed the stupid socks. I ponder how expensive it would be to just go to the store and buy new socks. It seems like it might be the only solution. Ok, I don’t have time to think about this problem. I continue to limp along while I get the meal served. My ankle feels sore, but not enough to slow me down. 

 

We run out the door, just making it to the restaurant in time. I limp carefully to our booth, the ankle is noticeable, but still not bad. 

 

And then suddenly, it’s bad. I’m just sitting there quietly in my seat and my ankle announces it’s presence, loud and clear. I AM HERE, I AM HERE, I AM HERE. 

 

I shift in my seat, trying to find a better position. Nothing seems to be working. We chat and order our food. My face is starting to look strained, my husband asks what’s wrong. I whisper that my ankle is hurting. He lets me put my foot up in his lap. It doesn’t help. 

 

As the evening progresses, my pain level goes from a 2 to a full blown 10. We cut the evening short and my husband and the husband of the other couple help me hobble out of the restaurant. By now I am employing my lamaze-breathing methods to deal with the pain. I can’t wait to just get home and put my foot up with some ice. 

 

Unfortunately, elevating, icing, and dosing up with a bunch of ibuprofen does nothing to ease the pain. I’m now crying. 

 

You have to understand, I have an extremely high tolerance for pain. This is off the charts. 

 

My husband finally says, that’s it, I’m taking you to the hospital. And the whole time, I’m thinking, Why me? I have so much to do. I cannot afford to be out of commission. Everyone is depending on me. And I still haven’t washed the socks. And now I can’t even go to the store to buy socks. And all the kids will be going to school tomorrow sock-less. 

 

We pull up to the hospital and Andy gets out to find a wheelchair. He stops and I hear him open the trunk of the car. The trunk opens and closes and then he walks over to my door, opens the door and dumps a bag in my lap, then heads off again. I look at the bag, puzzled, and open it up. 

 

It’s full of socks. Kids’ socks. Different sizes. And I remember about a month ago, my husband telling me there was a bag of socks in his car, he didn’t know where they came from, did I want them? And I said yes, but never followed through and they had just been sitting in his car. 

 

I burst into tears. This time just because I’m feeling overwhelmed with love. 

 

It’s ok. God’s got this. He sees me. He knows. It’s love in a bag of socks. 

 

(P.S. Ankle isn’t broken, just a bad sprain, and I got a boot to help me hobble around.)

 

Let’s have a Chat!

Hey Everybody. It’s Tuesday and it is apparently time for me to write my blog. And I’m not feeling it. Sometimes this blog feels narcissistic. It’s time to write about ME again. Uggh. 

 

So, let’s make this about someone else tonight. How are you all doing? How is life out in internet world? Are you crashing at the end of the day and seeking some mindless relaxation on Facebook? Right now I am sitting in my little boys’ room, waiting for them to go to sleep. It’s Andy’s night off and I am solo parenting. 

 

How are you coping with the holidays? Are they a fun-filled nostalgic time for you or are they a non-stop hectic, stressful race to the end? I seem to seesaw back and forth on that one. I am trying to have a slow, peaceful holiday month, but life keeps interrupting. 

 

How are you feeling with the shorter days and winter weather? (If that applies to you, maybe it’s summer in your part of the world.) For me, I love winter, but the cold weather gets to me. Maybe because my kids don’t want to be out in the cold, so then they’re running around the house, shooting nerf bullets at each other, or literally, climbing the walls, trying to see if they can make it up to the ceiling. 

 

How’s your peace doing? Is all right with the world or does everything feel out of whack? Me? Well, I’m in that interesting place where everything is out of whack, but despite that, I’m at peace and can feel God’s presence in all the craziness. So, I guess it’s good. I’ll tell you what, Jesus is the only one that can do that for me! I hope that you can find peace in your craziness too. Cause, if I’m being realistic, there probably isn’t anyone of you out there that doesn’t have some level of craziness going on. 

 

How are your dreams coming along? It’s taken me years to even give myself permission to have dreams. For a while there, just taking care of little kids was so overwhelming, I did not have any time for dreams. It’s not a great place to be. Feels a bit dead. I’ve been trying to let myself dream again. One dream is to be a full-time piano teacher. I had four piano students this school semester and it was really fun. We had a little recital of sorts last night and it felt good to see how well they did. It’s a small dream, but I’m taking steps towards it and that is nourishing to the soul. I hope you can find a way to, first of all, have a dream, and second of all, pursue it in small ways tucked here and there in your busy life. 

 

Let’s see, we’ll just skip politics. And sports. Read any good books lately? I found a new author I like, recommended by a friend, Amy Harmon. Fluffy, funny, PG, but also some stuff to think about. Just what I’m looking for right now. I’ve also been reading 1,2, and 3rd John, in the Bible. I found 1 John to be very comforting for my perfectionist self. I am never sure if I’m doing enough, being enough, striving enough etc. And the main point I took away from the book was, Obey Jesus’ commands. This is his command. Love God, Love People. The End. And that doesn’t seem too burdensome. It seems like a joyful task, not a hard chore. And it also feels like a load of expectations dissolves off my shoulders every time I read it. Good stuff. 

 

Well, if you were sitting right in front of me, this is about the time I would start digging for the nitty gritty stuff, how are the relationships in your life? How are you feeling about yourself? How’s your spiritual life? What’s making you happy these days? What’s dragging you down? 

 

So, you should come on by when you can, sit at my kitchen table, where the kids will run around us, kind of like a rock sticking out of the current in a river. We’ll drink some hot tea, I’ll dig up some cookies, or carrot sticks, depending on where you are at with your diet, and we can chat (with plenty of interruptions, but it won’t matter!). 

 

Good night friends, let’s talk again soon!

 

Everyone Needs a Manifesto

Today I have been focusing on piano. Piano teaching to be exact. In the fall I will be teaching piano lessons at our church’s homeschooling co-op which meets once a week. I will have four students this year. I had two students last year. I am slowly sticking my toe into the waters of Piano Teaching. My end goal is to teach lessons from my home when all my kids are in school, hopefully focusing on the home school crowd who have the flexibility to take lessons during the day instead of during after-school hours. We’ll see how it goes. In the meantime I am slowly feeling my way forward in the realm of teaching. I have been looking at all kinds of different piano teaching curriculum. Reading reviews. Watching tutorials. I am also brushing off my own piano books, starting to set some goals for myself in learning new pieces and brushing up on my music theory. 

As I’ve been doing all of this, it occurred to me that I should write a Piano Teacher’s Manifesto. Kind of a written statement of what my goals are for teaching piano. I’ve been jotting down different ideas today, trying to figure out what is important to me and what isn’t important to me. I think I can boil down my ideas into two key points. 1. I want to share the joy of music: expose kids to all kinds of music and hopefully pass on the wonder and delight I feel when I listen to music. 2. I want to make music accessible to them: give them the skills they need so that they can participate in music and also let them realize they can enjoy and participate in music no matter what skill level they are at. 

Once I have a manifesto then I have a measuring stick. When I consider different curriculum I can ask the question, Will this curriculum enable me to fulfill the goals of my manifesto? When I plan out my lessons and recitals I can always be making sure my methods line up with my goals. A manifesto is a very useful tool. 

It occurs to me that I should have manifestos for other areas in my life. Like parenting. What are my goals for parenting? Teach my children to know and love the God of the Bible.  Teach my children how to love and respect the people around them. Teach my children how to become responsible citizens. All the parenting methods I use, all the decisions I make should be lining up with those goals. 

How about a manifesto for my online presence? Something to regulate how I act on Facebook and my blog and anywhere else I might show up. How about: Be respectful and kind at all times, reflect character that is pleasing to God. If I was tech-savvy, I could somehow make a little window pop up every time I’m about to hit POST or COMMENT…Is this content Respectful and Kind and Pleasing to God? I would have to hit the YES button on the window before I could go ahead and hit enter. 

Ok, I’m on a roll now…How about a manifesto for my marriage? Let’s see. All my words and actions should have the purpose of encouraging and building up my spouse and promoting unity between us. Wouldn’t it be nice to have a little voice reminding you of that manifesto every time you opened your mouth to speak..”Is this going to encourage him? Is this going to promote unity?” 

Anyway, I’m having fun with the whole idea of writing down my goals so that I have some direction when I need to make decisions. Maybe I’ll expand this to a House Cleaning Manifesto, Money Spending Manifesto, and Book Reading Manifesto!