He has a way with words...

God does not speak in literal words to me often. Sometimes I really wish He would. But He mainly nudges my heart and spirit and seems to gently guide me. But, when He does speak in words, He certainly knows how to get my attention!

Yesterday, I was asked/invited to do a service ministry that evening. I got the invite via text and thought, "ugh...it's raining and cold and supposed to snow later and I have work to do for school. I don't really feel like it." I read the text to Donald and he said he was not super excited to go, either. I picked up my phone to text back that we couldn't go. (Couldn't is a stretch here, as we COULD...but did not want to. I was justifing "couldn't" by saying I HAD to do school stuff, even knowing that I could do it today instead.) Just as I unlocked the phone to type, God spoke. Clearly, concisely and in words.

He said, "Jonah did not WANT to go to Ninevah, either."

This got my attention. I told Donald I was going to go anyway. He said he'd come, too.

Now, I know that statement could have many meanings (sadness, threatening, instructing, etc.), but I did not stop and ask for interpretation. I just figured if it was serve or be swallowed by a whale and THEN serve (because Jonah did not get out of doing what he was asked, he just was delayed by disobedience and a whale)...then I'm gonna go with serve.

Plus...I've been asking God for a lot lately (patience, job for Donald, healing for Papa), so it would seem that to ask and never give is certainly wrong.

There are a lot of reasons I should have said yes without God having to tell me to (for starters, because it was the right thing to do). I did not. That makes me disappointed in myself. I wish I had wholeheartedly said yes right away without the prompt. (Although the rare occasion of hearing God's voice is nice.) I am glad I went and I really hope that next time, I won't have to hear Him tell me to.

I am also glad I went, because it saved God the trouble of getting a whale into a landlocked state and in position to swallow me.

Papa update again

Papa's face swelled up last Tuesday. He went to the doctor and the doctor pulled out fluid with a needle. He said it was either infection at the operation site or the lymphoma was back.

Today (Thursday), the doctor told him it is the lymphoma. It is back much sooner than anyone ever thought it would be. Only a couple weeks after the all clear, remission declaration.

He has to go back this week and get some immune system tests run and then start radiation.

Pray for Papa again. He cleared the lymphoma once, I have faith he can do it again!

Dreaming

Why does dreaming come in spurts? I won't dream for months, then suddenly, 15 dreams a night for a week. How does that work?

Also, when you do dream, why do you wake up feeling completely exhausted? Is you body actually awake and performing these dreams in an alternate world?

Why are my dreams either insane or mundane, but no in between?

Why have I never, ever had the most common dreams of flying and falling?

true fit

Warning: this post is really long and a bit rambly. If it is not of interest to you, you don't have to read it. It was more of a way for me to analyze my feelings than anything else.

Talking on the phone with Hillery this week was enlightening. And the more I ponder the conversation, the more it feels true and right.

It started with me mentioning something about school next year (can't really remember what it was, but something), and her asking if that meant I planned to stay at this school next year. (History:I stayed in my first school district 2 years, my second district 2 years and have almost finished my second year at this one.) I said yes, and that I really needed to because I was afraid if I left another district after 2 years, people would stop hiring me, for fear of my 2 year attention span.

Now, for the record, I did not dislike either of my previous jobs.

I loved the Co-op with everything in me. I loved what it stood for, I loved my boss, I loved my kids (even the hard ones). I loved the atmosphere. I enjoyed that it was all special ed. Usually, there are only a few sped teachers in one location, and we feel a bit isolated. At the co-op, we were a family, we had a common goal of helping these special kids.

I only left because I wanted a baby. And, despite loving my job, I wanted that baby more than any job on the planet. I also knew I could not safely do my job pregnant. Too many restraints, too many violent kids, too much stress. I would put my baby's safety before the job, and the students would suffer. That was not fair. I would become a liability and I could not let that happen.

I also had a eye-opening conversation with my boss, who said she could never have had kids and done this job, because when she goes home she has nothing left to give a baby. She was right. And I knew it. Had I known then that I could not have a baby, I would not have left. I was a little burnt out on getting beaten up, but I would have known the summer would give me time to rev back up and I would have been ready to get back into my job.

I would have stayed...but after my boss left the co-op a year later (due to a lot of garbage that still upsets me) I was glad I had left. I just couldn't see the place without her at the helm. She was the heart and soul of the place. And after the co-op closed forever last spring, I am even more thankful that I left. It breaks my heart to know it is not there serving kids. It was a great place and kids got helped in a way that cross-cat classes cannot offer. Had I been working there when it closed, it would have been even harder.

At my second school, the job was less stressful kid-wise, and more stressful paper-wise. But I really enjoyed my kids there. They were sweet, and seemed more...wholesome..than "city" kids. (This was an extremely rural Mayberry-esque setting.) I formed really good relationships with co-workers and enjoyed "running the show" of the sped dept. It felt good to know that I really did know my stuff. I worked hard, but it made me feel competent and professional. I learned a lot as a quasi-administrator. It was valuable experience that I would not trade for anything. (Plus school paid trips to Tan-tar-a are pretty nice!)

I had no intentions of leaving there when I did. I liked it, I was happy, it was working for me. I wasn't looking at job postings or putting out resumes. I signed a contract to return, knowing I had until June 1st to change my mind, but not thinking that was even in the realm of possibility. Then Hanna told me the job I had always wanted, but it had never been open since I had been certified, had just opened up.

I thought hard and finally decided I had to go for it, or I'd always wonder what could have been. So I put in my resume and application. I told my boss at that job that I did not intend to look for a job, this just happened to be my dream job and had just opened up. I also told her I was not going to take just any job and leave, because I only wanted to leave if just the right thing came along. She understood and wrote me a nice reference.

I did the interview with the central office, and my time as a sped coordinator served me well, I was able to answer all the process/legal questions without hesitation. I later found out my interviewer had been replaced at his former job by my co-op boss and that he had told her my interview was "flawless." That was really nice to hear.

I got the interview at my "dream job," plus 3 others. One for the same "dream job" but at a different location. (The dream job was an autism classroom, for those who don't know. Autism was always my main interest in disability, due to Danny, Lindsey and later, Zach. It still fascinates me like nothing else.) One interview was middle school cross-cat...which I knew before I went that I did not want to do, but my co-op boss advised me to do the interview anyway. She said it was good practice at interview skills (it was the first of the 4 on the schedule), and showed the district that I was not going to turn my nose up at every job other than the autism position. It showed an open mind and kept doors open.

The cross-cat interview apparently went well...they offered me the job. I turned it down, I told them I had two interviews for a position I wanted more and was hoping to get on at one of those 2 schools.

The next interview was for the autism job at the school I had always wanted to work in. I had interned there and fallen in love with the school. I prayed hard...I really wanted them to offer me the job. In the interview they asked if I had anymore interviews set up, and I said I had already had one and had two more scheduled. They asked what would be my first choice. I told them it was there. That I had wanted to work there, in that class, for 6 years. The principal called me the next day and was very gentle in letting me know that I was not getting the job. She told me she knew how badly I wanted it, and they liked me, but they went with the candidate with a master's degree almost completed in Autism. She said she usually sent a letter letting applicants know if they did not get the job, but that she knew I had another interview that day and wanted me to have the information so I did not wait on their response to answer any other offers. This was very kind of her, but my heart was a bit broken at that time.

Still, I went to the third interview, for another autism class, and decided to give it my all. It was still the job I wanted, even if it was not in the location I desired. I thought, "All things are for a reason. That must not have been the place for me, no matter how much I wanted it to be. Maybe this is where I need to be." My Gramma called me on the way to the interview and prayed for me. That gave me a lot of peace. You see, when my Gramma prays, things happen! But, I only considered the possibility of getting the job as the answer to the prayer. I did not look at the alternative. This was my last chance (for the year) to have a crack at the autism job.

I didn't get it. They went with a lady who had been a para in the autism room while going back to school to get her degree. She knew the staff, the kids, the class. She had the edge. For them, she fit.

I felt a bit let down, but I was ok with it, because i still had my job. And there was nothing wrong with it, I liked it, it was a good job. So I would stay put and maybe get a crack at the autism job another year. Sure, I had one more interview to go, but it was not the job I wanted and I figured I would do the interview but either not get the job or not accept the offer.

I arrived at the interview. It did not start well. (First I was lost on the way and had to have Hanna google the directions to the school.) Then, I sat outside the office for an hour after my interview was to start. I waited and waited, finally the principal came out, looked confused and said "Can I help you?" I said I was there for the 4:30 interview. She asked my name and then said, "Oh, you don't have an interview. You never called me back." I did not want to be rude or disrespectful, but I also wanted to clear the record. "Yes, I did," I said, "You asked me to come in on Tuesday, but I said I had a funeral and we decided on Wednesday." As soon as I said funeral, her face changed. "OOOHHHH. Yes. I forgot. I'm sorry!" She apologized. She asked the interview team if they would be willing to stay a little later and give me the interview, since I had waited so long.

I did the interview...I answered the questions, some I nailed, some the principal questioned. But the whole time, I sat and thought, "This fits." I did not know what the job would look like, really. I had no experience with running a functional life skills classroom. But as I sat with these people and talked about this job, it felt so right. It fit.

I was shocked. I had expected to walk out and go back to my job and be fine with it. But as I walked to my car, I thought, "This feels comfortable. I can do this." Still, I wanted to think and pray and talk it over and make pro/con lists before deciding. It wasn't what I planned on doing and it wasn't my dream job, even if some of the students in the class may have autism, there was more to this than just that.

The principal had told me I was the 3rd interview for the job, and she wanted to do at least 2 more, but would let me know in the next 5 days. She called the next day and offered me the job. I was surprised and asked about the other interviews. She said she usually does at least 5, but they talked after I left and decided they did not need to, that "we just all thought you fit."

That confirmed what I was feeling, and I accepted the job. I was nervous, because I did not know what it would be like, but I knew it would be ok. It felt right. It would be new, challenging and good.

I'm almost 2 full years in. It still feels right. It still fits. I never expected to end up doing this type of program, but I love it. I think the things we get to do with the students are amazing. I am thrilled to be back in self-contained sped., which I've always liked more than resource sped. I like having my own kids, in a smaller group, rather than 20-30 kids I see randomly throughout the day. I like cooking and community outings. I love having a para again (adult ocnversation/support throughout the day is priceless!)

I am genuinely happy in this position. I could easily see myself doing it for many more years. I'm not "looking for the next step." This is where I am supposed to be, I just didn't know it.

(Also, with as high as gas prices got in the last 2 years, I could never have afforded driving 89 miles round trip to work anymore.)

Papa update

All bone marrow tests, blood tests and body scans show that Papa is cancer free! He did not have to do chemo or radiation! We know this is God, we know it was a healing, because the way the tumor wrapped around his facial nerves, they could not cut it all out for fear of paralyzing the right side of his face. But whatever the doctor could not get out is gone now.

He has to go back every three months for a year, just to recheck that he is cancer free. After that, just his regular once a year work up.

Prayers work. God is able.

an admission

In high school, "Hootie and the Blowfish" was big. Everyone loved them. They got played at all the dances.

I hated them. I did not enjoy their sound, they had nothing that I found appealing.

So, when news broke a while back about Hootie's lead singer, Darius Rucker, going country for a solo album, I was skeptical. I did not like this guy when his band was big in the 90's, surely now he just a washed up 40-something ex pop star trying for a comeback however he can, right?

When his first single broke, I liked it. I liked it the first time I heard it, even knowing it was his. On subsequent hearings, it grew on me. I liked it more and more. I kept thinking, wow, this is really the guy from Hootie?

His next single broke. I loved it.

I've now heard his whole album. I like or love over 3/4 of the songs. The other 1/4 are listenable. I don't hate any of them, but they serve the usual filler purpose. They won't be singles, or get radio play, but if you buy the whole album, you won't feel compelled to skip them, either.

My admission...I, the Hootie hater, the skeptic...have fallen in love with Darius Rucker as a country artist.

a rant

I am tired of people who tell me they have no money for their kids, yet you can tell from the smell of them, and their child/child's belongings, that they obviously smoke a lot.

I get that nicotine is an addiction, please do not say that to me in the comments. Most of my family has dealt with addiction to either nicotine, alcohol and/or illegal substances.

However, addictions can be broken.

If you have to choose between a freaking pack of smokes each day and dinner for your kid, I am sorry, but if your child eating is not the priority here then you are a lousy human being.

And you can say that the cost of cigarettes does not equal the cost of food, so giving it up would not help feed the family. Lie. Cigarettes are a few dollars a pack. With three bucks, you can buy an entire loaf of bread, pack of cheese and some butter. Grilled cheese for all! You can buy noodles and sauce. Yay spaghetti! You can buy a box of macaroni and cheese and some tuna to throw in for protein. Not my tast, but most kids love it. You can buy eggs and a box of add water only pancake mix. Breakfast for dinner, love it!

Buying cigarettes to feed your addiction while your kids sit hungry is selfish. It's cruel. It's abusive.

Period.

randomosity

Yeah, maybe randomosity is not a real word, but if I use it often enough, Webster's will think it is. (Examples: jiggy, bootylicious, and blog.)

Nothing really important to blog, just float around my head thoughts trying to escape, so I'll put them here.
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There is a song on the radio right now, I dislike it, so naturally it gets lodged in my brain and replays the same two lines for days on end. Even if I only hear the first word before I change the station, the middle lines of the chorus stick like glue. That's irritating!!
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There was a child in front of me at WalMart today in the check out line. I really wanted to have a long talk with, and/or smack her parents. She took some gum off the shelf without asking and placed it with the groceries. Her mom asked her to put it back. The child (around the age of 10), looked straight at her mother and said, "Oh, I see. Dad is already mean to me so now you are going to be mean, too." (Dad was also standing right there.) Mom (committing the crime of engaging pouty, sulky whining) replies "Dad was not mean to you. That Hannah Montana guitar is too much money for us." Child argues "Well, gum is not expensive, so I am getting it." Mom replies, "You did not behave in the store, so you do not get a treat." (Which is a good rule, but only if enforced.) Child whines, "Dad, mom is being mean again! I just want gum. And a soda. Those aren't expensive. Okay, Dad? I am getting gum and a soda." Child walks to cooler and gets out a soda. Mom rolls her eyes and says "Fine, just get something for your brother, too, so I don't have to hear him whine." (Brother was not present.) Girl grabs a snicker bar, then puts it back and gets a "trial size" snack and says, "He's mean to me all the time, I don't like him. He only deserves the smallest thing." Mom says "Fine. I didn't like my brothers at your age either. As long as he gets something." (Dad remains silent for all of this.)

ARGH. Why? Why aren't parents acting like parents anymore?????
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I would blog about how I truly feel about the current weather, but if I did, it would snow tomorrow. So I am just going to say the weather's been "alright."
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I want to learn to make Korean Bulgogi. I love that stuff. It shouldn't be too hard.
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We have three months left of school. Three months does not seem short, but it is fewer than 65 school days. Crazy. It's winding down already.
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I am finally feeling better after being sick for almost the entirety of Febuary. Antibiotics are truly a miracle.
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I've decided I have no problems with bribery, so long as it saves my sanity.
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I want to move somewhere with superb mass transit, or an all inclusive village where everything is in walking distance. Cars are too expensive. What with gas and upkeep, its just too much. (We had to put $475 into our car Friday. New front and rear brakes, front rotors, alignment and oil change.)
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Guinea pigs hate to have their nails trimmed.
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I want to be a Fraggle. Think about it, a 30 minute work week? Count me in!
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So, I think that's it for now.