"Often I think traditional education is designed to meet the adult's needs and not the children's needs." -Kelsey Maddox, a great friend
I just wanted to put this approximate quote that I pulled from my friend because I think it is so true. I work in a traditional school setting and it disgusts me how little is actually done in thinking of the children's needs. There is a lot of lip service given to the idea of helping children "achieve their full potential" but it's compromised because of the inherently flawed systems and lack of vision regarding education in a holistic way (mind, body and spirit). In other words, I think it's bullshit. I wouldn't use that word unless I actually meant it and I mean it.
Although I am obviously very critical of these traditional education systems (which honestly end up being heaped high with bureaucracy), I also have an alternative in mind; Montessori education.
I am not unaware of the sin nature that all insufficiency stems from (even in the best circumstances) yet I see Montessori as something that optimizes a person's development and I believe it should replace the traditional education system.
Here's a short video why:
http://www.indiegogo.com/projects/building-the-pink-tower
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
Tuesday, December 3, 2013
Sometime's being someone's friend...
is like capturing fireflies in a jar.
Difficult, worth it, but not something you can force - it takes a little serendipity and yields wonder when it happens.
Difficult, worth it, but not something you can force - it takes a little serendipity and yields wonder when it happens.
Sunday, November 10, 2013
Where-ever I am (Smacking myself in the Face with Reality)
I am sitting here in the Hy-Vee dining area in Mankato drinking my $1.75 coffee from the Starbuck's kiosk that I paid.16 cent for (because I used a gift card). I know, not very romantic...not very typical to describe the mundane like this for me but I had a thought just a little while ago as I was here. I looked outside to the horizon (here's the romantic in me again) and I thought, "looks like a suburb...wish I was in Minneapolis." Then I thought..."the better half of my time I am wishing I was somewhere else...this is not healthy." It just smacked me in the face that I need to just realize that I am here in Mankato -- for better or worse. I don't love it here but I don't hate it. I have found some things that I appreciate though to help me -- going on walks and hikes or bike rides for one. There is a good church here with some pretty solid teaching, worship and friendly enough people. There is a women's craft collective with an emphasis on crossing cultures with women who have immigrated here with refugee status and women who have lived in the States their whole lives. I, at least, get to work with children and even do music with them. I actually have quite a few things to be thankful about. I also am with my Love, the man I married and even though it's not all rainbows and tulips and sunshine all the time, we love each other and still know how to have fun. I am glad he is here to do the thing he feels called to do - physics - and I am proud of that.
The truth is that the Holy Spirit can use me wherever I am and I just need to be willing. I need to be willing to take the mundane and make it holy. That stereotypical suburban looking mom in the Starbucks line, maybe she needs encouragement? I mean, I guess I'm just telling myself I need to realize that just because I'm not doing the thing I *love* and feel "fits" me doesn't mean that God can't use me. I need to get over myself and my snobbery and ask God what he wants me to do right now. It may be actually talking to someone who I have some preconceived notion about and not judging them. It may be seeing the good things in my life instead of focusing on what I don't have. It may very well be all that and more.
The truth is that the Holy Spirit can use me wherever I am and I just need to be willing. I need to be willing to take the mundane and make it holy. That stereotypical suburban looking mom in the Starbucks line, maybe she needs encouragement? I mean, I guess I'm just telling myself I need to realize that just because I'm not doing the thing I *love* and feel "fits" me doesn't mean that God can't use me. I need to get over myself and my snobbery and ask God what he wants me to do right now. It may be actually talking to someone who I have some preconceived notion about and not judging them. It may be seeing the good things in my life instead of focusing on what I don't have. It may very well be all that and more.
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
A Murder of Crows
I witnessed a murder of crows.
No, not the kind where crows are mercilessly munched on by a pterodactyl (wouldn't that be something?!) but the kind where crows glide around the sky and call to each other in their distinctive caw. Momentarily they may stop to rest on a wisp of a tree branch and then take up flight again.
I am not sure what they were talking about (although it could have been bloody and sundered wing of some bird laying much lower in the valley below) but watching them made me pause. They were, although merely crows, majestic as they soared circling the treetops. I breathed out in wonder, "What did we forfeit?" Something so beautiful that I saw has been lost in our good intentions for "civilization." Understand that while I know that the natural world is not redeemed any more (or any less) than humanity it appears to be something not so shrouded by evil.
As I stood there watching, 1 Corinthians 1:27-28 came to mind: "But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are."
Humanity has the pride that does not seem to accompany the "lesser" creation. We, although the God proclaimed pinnacle of creation, also seem to have fallen the farthest from where we were originally intended to be. We think of ourselves as "wise" and, in truth, are really foolish.
I can only wonder, what will we be like when we are restored? How much more transforming will nature be when it is remade?Tuesday, October 15, 2013
The Outside brings you Inside
Today I went on a walk. Most days I go on a walk it’s a good
idea. This was no exception. I walked up the hill, jumped in a few
scattered puddles, and then tread down the other side. Strangely, I had not been this way before. I
cantered nearly the bottom where it begins to taper off and become flatter and
then I somehow knew that I would take a right because something was around the
corner. So I walked on, and lo and behold,
there was a small grove of willow trees.
I have a fondness for willow trees
born out of childhood. It probably began
when I was a little girl and my family would take an occasional stroll down by
the Minnehaha Parkway. My parents were
no arborists but there were a few willow trees and I think I asked what they
were and found out their name. I was
drawn to them because of their resemblance to some prehistoric tree as well
because at the time “The Land Before Time” was my favorite movie. I loved that I knew what they were called. Who can’t identify a willow tree after they
have been shown one?
Anyhow, back in Mankato, fast
forward 20 some years; I climbed down a little hill to get under the grove of
willow trees and waded through the water standing there from today’s rainfall. It was a little swampy but I didn’t
mind. I had set out to go “puddle
jumping” anyway. I was mesmerized by the
cool beauty of the place enveloped by a lacey fringe of willow branches. I saw that the trees were just about the
right height for climbing and so in about three minutes I was up on the bow of
the tree as if it were a ship. My rain
boots slipped a little but I held steady.
As I looked around I felt my thoughts coalescing, shifting, forming and
my spirit was held by the Spirit of God.
I realized that I could just sit there and be. I could just be in that little world. Even though the highway was not far away and
a house backed up to this grove, somehow I felt sheltered and I could worship. Yes, I am a tree hugger (and a God lover). The Creation has marveled me since I was young. The strength and stability of trees is
something so lovely. I am grateful for clarity found in nature. I am grateful to God for trees and the
Outside that brings me Inside.
Wednesday, September 4, 2013
Ode to Joi
I've been grieving the death of my dear friend Joi O'Dell lately. I don't mean to say that I wasn't grieving before but some things in my life have helped me to actively grieve her death. It's been nearly two months since I received the jarring news and the inconceivable is beginning to feel more permanent. Here is some of what I wrote about this:
From today, September 4:
I was given a gift of wanting to live life even when things aren't all that great. I was given a gift of a will to live and sometimes even relish living because indeed my circumstances are delightful. I was given a lot that isn't mine to deserve or take credit for. I am blessed and now I am aware of it.
From September 2:
Why did you go, Joi?
No one wanted you to leave.
We all thought you were the bee's knees. Sweet as honey, sharp as a stinger.
You were a bright light in the darkness even if that darkness overshadowed you at times.
The other night you were in my dream and I knew that it didn't make sense. I think I asked you, "But how can you be here, aren't you dead?" You replied (or somehow I knew), "It's okay, it's different in a dream."
So you were there and it was confusing.
But then...your suicide didn't make any sense and yet it was there (as another friend reminded me).
We know and we say; you are with the Lord.
Maybe you felt a little like Paul, torn as your mortal body fought against your spiritual one.
"For indeed, in this house we groan, longing to be clothed with our dwelling from heaven, inasmuch as we, having put it on, will not be found naked."
We never thought you naked. True, your vulnerability was difficult for me sometimes. I never could understand the depth of sadness I saw you carry. I didn't see how you carried it so far and so long.
Yet, you had a kind of awesomeness in your vulnerability. It's what made you love people. It's what made others love you.
You were giving me courage to speak out my weakness and not be ashamed. You were giving me courage to honor and give to others beyond what I thought I could. That courage you carried and gave to others; that is a rare, fragile gift.
I will never understand why you left.
If you were here now we would probably be talking now, you and me, about life and how hard some things are and yet also about the hope for the world and a vision to see things made new. You were not perfect, but you were a saint and you had such a heart for the world. Later, to ease things you would probably joke and make some berserkly geeky reference and laugh your lovable, quirky laugh -- snort and all. I miss that laugh. Then we would craft a plan to do something absolutely gleeful and probably bless others at the same time. You were that lady. Even when you were not doing well and could not muster it you still gave so much (and were so much) and you were (and are) a lady so beloved. I wish you had known it deep in your bones.
I am just hoping that I can remember that you are one of many treasures (as you showed me in welcoming so many yourself). One sweet day I'll meet you again and see you fully for who you really are and were always meant to be. Joi: renewed: Rejoice. We will be able to say it again and again and mean it.
And it won't be a dream; and it will make more sense than anything else ever has.
From today, September 4:
I was given a gift of wanting to live life even when things aren't all that great. I was given a gift of a will to live and sometimes even relish living because indeed my circumstances are delightful. I was given a lot that isn't mine to deserve or take credit for. I am blessed and now I am aware of it.
From September 2:
Ode to Joi
Why did you go, Joi?
No one wanted you to leave.
We all thought you were the bee's knees. Sweet as honey, sharp as a stinger.
You were a bright light in the darkness even if that darkness overshadowed you at times.
The other night you were in my dream and I knew that it didn't make sense. I think I asked you, "But how can you be here, aren't you dead?" You replied (or somehow I knew), "It's okay, it's different in a dream."
So you were there and it was confusing.
But then...your suicide didn't make any sense and yet it was there (as another friend reminded me).
We know and we say; you are with the Lord.
Maybe you felt a little like Paul, torn as your mortal body fought against your spiritual one.
"For indeed, in this house we groan, longing to be clothed with our dwelling from heaven, inasmuch as we, having put it on, will not be found naked."
We never thought you naked. True, your vulnerability was difficult for me sometimes. I never could understand the depth of sadness I saw you carry. I didn't see how you carried it so far and so long.
Yet, you had a kind of awesomeness in your vulnerability. It's what made you love people. It's what made others love you.
You were giving me courage to speak out my weakness and not be ashamed. You were giving me courage to honor and give to others beyond what I thought I could. That courage you carried and gave to others; that is a rare, fragile gift.
I will never understand why you left.
If you were here now we would probably be talking now, you and me, about life and how hard some things are and yet also about the hope for the world and a vision to see things made new. You were not perfect, but you were a saint and you had such a heart for the world. Later, to ease things you would probably joke and make some berserkly geeky reference and laugh your lovable, quirky laugh -- snort and all. I miss that laugh. Then we would craft a plan to do something absolutely gleeful and probably bless others at the same time. You were that lady. Even when you were not doing well and could not muster it you still gave so much (and were so much) and you were (and are) a lady so beloved. I wish you had known it deep in your bones.
I am just hoping that I can remember that you are one of many treasures (as you showed me in welcoming so many yourself). One sweet day I'll meet you again and see you fully for who you really are and were always meant to be. Joi: renewed: Rejoice. We will be able to say it again and again and mean it.
And it won't be a dream; and it will make more sense than anything else ever has.
Sunday, July 28, 2013
Sister
"I have a sister somewhere in Detroit. She has black hair and small hands."
-Sufjan Steves, "Sister" from Michigan album
I have been thinking about the concept of being a "sister" lately. It has been brought up several times recently in my life. I read "The Cloister Walk" by Kathleen Norris last fall and was reminded of how the sisters and brothers devoted to Christ in the form of a formal vow as a part of a religious order. I was reminded of as I experience separation from my husband this summer as he does an internship in another state and I am challenged in our relationship to relate to Chris, my husband, more in that way as well as other men. It is a good challenge. Also, tragically, I am reminded by a dear friend's suicide and how often it is that I can pass by people and because of busyness without truly acknowledging them and their worth. Yet, loving people as a sister is one of the most important things one can do.
My goal is to love others as a sister or a daughter or a mother. I believe humanity is all related although we may not know it. I want to be someone that respects and loves each a person and follow the Holy Spirit in the way I do it. It seems like in our oversexualized and sometimes impersonal society it has become constant struggle to simply be a sister in another's eyes as well as my own. Yet, if I do this I will be showing others Jesus by my presence. Jesus himself became our "brother" so that many might come to know the Father (God).
Some brother words about Jesus:
28And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. 29For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. 30And those whom he predestined he also called, and those whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified he also glorified.31What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? 32He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? 33Who shall bring any charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies. 34Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died—more than that, who was raised—who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us.35Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? 36As it is written,
“For your sake we are being killed all the day long;
we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.”
we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.”
37No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. 38For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, 39nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.
-Romans 8:28-39
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)




