Another Half-Staff Flag

Here we go again
The world spins around
The flag goes up and goes back down

I didn't know what it is about a lowered flag in front of a school that brings out such strong emotions in me.  But today it hit me.  It is because that flag always comes with unanswered questions from innocent children. 

Every morning during the week, a fifth-grade student proudly rushes into the building to grab the flag and raise it on a pole in front of the school.  Often, he is so excited to do so that we have to remind him to walk.  This morning, without prompting that I am aware of, he knew where the flag needed to be.  Yesterday,  a school of 3,000 high school students and their teachers were victims and/or witnesses of a school mass shooting.  And a 10 or 11-year-old student knew about it before breakfast this morning.  It is heart-wrenching as a teacher and as mother to know that these YOUNG children cannot and should not (maybe??? I'm torn) be shielded from the events that took place yesterday.  Tragically, this could have and may one day be their story if things do not change.  So we have to prepare these young children to know what to do if "another school shooting" happens to them.  It feels like we are preparing them for a potential bomb in a time of war.  But they have to know what to do, right? 

The questions I was asked today by a group of 4th grade children were questions no one has trained me to answer.  We are rightly taught that if we don't know the answer to a question, we tell the student we don't know.  It shows them that teachers aren't perfect and we do not know everything and that is okay.  We are lifelong learners who seek to find knowledge when it is lacking.  But what about when your student asks you a question like, "why would someone walk into a school and try to kill a bunch of people?"  I can't just ask Siri that one.  I have to tell them I don't know and that there isn't a logical answer.  Not only is their teacher not perfect.  She doesn't know all the answers.  There is no way to take pride that you stumped your teacher this time.  Today they looked to me to have an answer to their deepest questions and I can't find one.  They want so desperately for me to answer them in a way that makes them comfortable, that eases their anxious fearful little minds a little bit.  But there are no words.  All I can do is say that I am so sorry that they have to feel this way.  I have to tell them it can happen anywhere.  I have to tell them we need to be prepared.  I have to tell them that this is why we tell them not to be silly during a lock-down drill.  I have to tell them it is very important to stay absolutely silent and away from the windows and doors.  I have to tell them that I will do everything in my power to keep them safe if something like that ever happens here.  Then I have to tell them that I don't know what else to say.

Every morning during assembly, right after breakfast and right before our students go to their class, we make promises to each other.  The students say:
As a student of ___________ School
I respect myself and others, too.
I'll be on task, on time, never late.
I'll make good choices
ALWAYS SAFE.
I'll be responsible for every chore.
I'm a ____________ tiger,
HEAR ME ROAR!

And the teachers reply:
As a teacher at ___________ School
I will engage every learner, everyday
In higher order thinking
Through innovative lessons
In a SAFE environment.

What happens if our pledges to each-other are not enough?  What happens if our students keep their promise to be safe, and we keep our promise to maintain a safe environment and it still isn't enough???  I pray that day never comes!!!

The First Breath After Drowning

Disclaimer…not for the faint of heart.  I just started writing.  My heart is heavy and full all at the same time.  I hope this does not come across as insensitive.  Anyone who knows me knows that my greatest strength and weakness is sensitivity.  I feel other’s pain as deeply as possible without living it...blessing and a curse.  So this may bring tears, but I hope the end brings relief like…

 

The First Breath After  Drowning

I’ve never drowned

I’ve never lost someone I love to the water

But I know some who have

And I’ve seen ones who have

And I’ve spent the last few days seeing

And feeling the weight of those who have

And I ache inside for them

I hold my breath as they fight for theirs

I sigh with relief when they take one

I fill with pride for my fellow men and women

 

Who braved the treacherous waters

To lessen the drowning

To give more seconds, or minutes, or days, or hours, or years

To those they pull from the water

I watch in heartbreaking disbelief

A whole city, several cities, a region

Slip into cold muddy water

Hours and years spent building houses

And minutes and hours and days and years

Lived in homes that will never be the same

Memories washed away in the current

Photos, treasures, collections, family keepsakes

…Things

Under inches and feet of RAINDROPS

And to those who swam to shores that were once highways

Or drifted to dry land at the water’s edge

Or lifted into helicopters in baskets

Or dragged into flat-bottom boats

Or floated on refrigerators and mattresses

Or clung to stop signs and telephone poles

The lucky ones whose heavy hearts didn’t sink them

They may never feel dried of the floodwaters again

But they have another chance to take another breath

To live another life

A better life

To find more joy because of the pain they will carry

To share the courage and strength that was shared with them

With others during their storms

I pray that the water on their souls that may never dry

Only brings them a greater purpose

A reason to fight harder than the current

A reason to love deeper than the floodwaters

A reason to flow as peacefully as the receding tide

A reason to speak words that were once muffled

A reason to swim the rocky waters



Not all were gifted with the dramatic rescue

The crowd of those left behind were blessed with something

FAR GREATER

Their first breath after drowning was heavenly

It was perfection

And will be forevermore

The muddy waters were instantly dried

They were met with instant warmth from the cold

Infinite joy abounded

Their party wasn’t a heavyhearted celebration

But a never-ending fiesta

They weren’t yanked ashore by rescuers

But ushered in by a shepherd

Who led them to STILL WATERS

Refreshing to their soul

Their first warm meal

Was a banquet

They needed no blanket to warm cold bones

They were wrapped in clouds of grace

And arms of love

And joy abounding

And waves of mercy

And waves of grace

Their first breath after drowning

Was weightless!

What a blessing that will be.

If Only Hashtags Could HEAL

I wrote this angry prayer not so long ago after the terrorist attacks in Paris. But it seems the #hashtags# keep coming. The latest one I saw was #HealOurOrLANDo plastered across a billboard in Chattanooga.  A touching gesture and attempt at       solidarity. One city struck by terrorism extending an embrace to another now facing the same hoping a billboard means something. What else is there to do? Yes, it happened here, too. We know the pain of having to say, "stuff like that just doesn't happen here." That statement is beginning to lose its shock value. Too many people have said the same thing. But what can we do? Now we both have a hashtag to go with our city. How tragic it is that cities are literally trending by terrorism? #Orlando is no longer just recordings of vacation memories. It's no longer just smiling faces by the beach. Now is survivor photos, memorial photos, photos of people sobbing,  artistic expressions of grief. What can we do? I know. We will give it a clever hashtag. That will fix it.

#If Only Hastags Could Heal#

They were just out for a night on the town
#OrlandoUnited

They were just raising a toast at an office party.
#SanBernadino

They just wanted to rock out to their favorite band
They were just enjoying a pleasant meal
#PrayingForParis

They were just getting pumped for the big game
They were just cheering on the OSU Cowboys
#HomeGoingParade

They were just going to class
They were just perusing degrees for a shot at the American Dream
#Umpqua

They were just reporting the news
They were just preparing for their big day
#LiveNotAlive

They were just doing their jobs
They were just enjoying time home between deployments
#ChattanoogaStrong

They were just going to church to learn how to be more like you
They were just black
#ChurchInCharleston

They were just going to see a movie
They were just enjoying their popcorn and Coke
#CheckYourAssaultRifleAtTheDoorCinemas

They were just going to school
They were just little kids
#SandyHookStudents

#WHYisKillingPeopleTrending



PS-I really pray from the bottom of my heart that this doesn't make anyone doubt the God that I pray to or his goodness or his faithfulness or his love. My prayer is that you know it's okay to ask why.  Jesus asked why that time, too. I figure if he can pray an angry prayer I can, too. But don't ask me why, God hasn't answered me yet.

July 2015...BITTER...SWEET

On this, the 20th day of July, the year 2015, I am mentally, emotionally, and spiritually OVERWHELMED!  This month has been a whirlwind for my country, my city, my family, and me. And none of us will ever be the same again, for better or for worse, and my prayer is for the former.
July 1st- the first day of the month of my due date for my second son. He was due to make his appearance on July 29th.
Needless to say, he wasn't willing to wait.

July 4th-a day our country celebrates freedom, and the day my son, Patten Turner Strauss, decided to join in on the festivities.

July 5th-Some friends and family came to meet Little Patten. He was alert and cuddly and cute and everything a one-day old baby should be. We told our son, Shea, that his new baby brother would be going to "Shea's house" tomorrow because all indications pointed in that direction. 

July 6th- Due to extreme exhaustion on the part of my husband and I (I had essentially been in labor and in and out of the hospital for at least a week), we took advantage of the nursury services offered by the hospital. We sent him off to the nursury so we could sleep a couple of hours at a time between feedings. It is hospital policy that all babies that are born before 37 weeks gestation must have a car-seat test. He was born at 36 weeks and 4 days. This is where they put the baby in the car seat for an hour and monitor their heart rate and respiration. As we slept, they strapped him into the car seat. It quickly became clear to the nurses he was not going to pass the test. His respiration rate went up over 100 breaths per minute. My husband and I were woken up by a nurse we had never met telling us our 2-day-old son had just been admitted to the NICU. This is what we saw when we walked in to see our little guy.

July 7th-

July 8th-

Later that day...

Fast forward to July 16th- On the way home from lunch and shopping with my mother-in-law and my two boys, I got a call from my husband who was working a kids summer camp at the University of Tennessee at Chattanooga. He said to go straight home and turn on the news but he didn't know any details. All he knew was there was an active shooter in downtown Chattanooga. I am sure you are aware of the shootings that happened in Chattanooga where 4 marines and one sailor lost their lives and many others put their lives on the line to make sure no more innocent people died at the hands of evil. They happened just a few miles from where my husband was working. We later learned that the shooter went to the same college as us at the same time. He was, up until the time of the shooting, living on the same street where my mom grew up.

Click here to listen to this beautiful song.

Today, July 19th-

As I sit in the comfort of my home and watch my boys play beside each other on the floor and type this post with my husband beside me on the couch, I can't help but be grateful for all that I have. I can't help but take a sigh of relief that we were not in the wrong place at the wrong time. I can't help but think about and pray for and hurt for those that no longer have their husbands, or sons, or fathers beside them. I can't help but worry about the mounting threats of more terrorism in the coming hours and days and years. I can't help but be sad at the state of the world that will be the expected norm to my boys if nothing changes. I can't help but pray that my boys be a part of a generation that turns from fear to peace, from doubt to hope, and from hate to love. I pray that my husband and I will find the words to say when our sons ask the hard questions like why did this happen, who could do something like this, why is life so hard, and why do bad things happen to good people? I pray this because these are answers I am seeking myself.

But through all of this sadness there is one thing I know...in the end all that matters is LOVE.

1 Corinthians 13: 12 For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

13 And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

WIP Wednesday...work in progress...my dream and my afghan

So...I am glad I didn't announce my potential studio location because things have fallen through. God has a different plan. So it's back to the drawing board. I'll just be praying and waiting and waiting some more until God makes things official.

In the meantime I will be working on my afghan and playing ball with my son and enjoying his first snow day and working on my crocheted afghan during his naps. 

Until next time, my friends, stay warm!

Wait Training

To those of you who have been there from the start of this incredible journey, I owe you an apology. You may not know it, but it was brought to my attention today at my church, Calvary Chapel.  The message was about patience. Let me sum up this little journey of mine and tell you what revelation God laid on my heart.

1. I have always dreamed of opening a community art center just for fun. It was one of those things you put on your bucket list thinking there is no way that would ever happen but it's good to dream. 

2. God began little by little to show me how much families in my area need a safe place to interact with others and build relationships in a positive environment. As a high school teacher, I have seen that no matter how much we build up the students inside the walls of the classroom, it can all be for nothing if there is nothing uplifting lies outside of them.

3. On August 25th of 2013, Pastor Frank, my pastor at Calvary Chapel preached a message on David and Goliath. David was a huge underdog. No one but God thought he had a chance. He was too small to take on something so massive. He had no resources or training to take on such a feat. But God told him he could do it. And against all odds, David killed the giant, Goliath, with just one stone and a slingshot.

As I sat in the service I heard the voice of God clearer than I ever have before. He was calling me to be the underdog. Some people think I am crazy. Yes, I am a teacher. Yes, I have a young baby. No, I don't have a lot of money. But I do have a calling. I have been called to start a community art studio to reach out to a generation that is being reached out to in all the wrong ways. I am called to help build positive relationships in the community and draw families closer together. I am called to give people a place to put their God-given gifts on display to share with others. I am called to help people find the individuality in themselves and find what it is they were put here to do. I have been called to create a place where all of this can happen. And I don't have much more than a slingshot and pebble.

4. Then I started to rush things. I had good intentions in doing so. I knew God had called me. He gave me a vision. Then I tried to make it happen. I found a realtor and set out to find a location. I spoke with someone who worked for a community art co-op and was advised to seek nonprofit status. Then there was the government shutdown. I took that as a sign to go a different direction. 

5. I found a location. It cost too much so I went out to gather resources. I should have taken it as a sign to slow down. 

6. Someone went online to see if there was an art studio in the area kind of like the one I am looking to create and stumbled on this website...just a blog with my idea and not much else. She was interested in making use of the studio. She contacted me and we had a conversation about how the timing could be a God thing. Instead of thanking God for this connection and seeking his will in the situation I took this as yet another reason to push faster and chase harder. I unintentionally became pushy, thinking my plan was God's plan instead of waiting for God's plan to play out. 

7. I found another location, perfect and in my price range. I jumped on it. Then I was told someone else was interested and willing to pay more. I was heartbroken. Then 10 days ago I was told they changed their mind and may be willing to take my offer. The landlord was out of town pheasant hunting (only in Soddy...haha) and would be in touch in a week. It's been more than a week so I was planning on calling the realtor on Monday to see if she had heard anything. But this time I am going to wait and let God do his thing....or wait for God to wait to do his thing later. 

Here is why:  (notes from today's sermon)

-Prayer is a pause that seeks direction from God.

-Don't push or self-promote. 

-If God has called you, God will get you there.

-God is not in a hurry.

-Self-interest stinks. It blinds us to the obvious.

-Zeal without knowledge is no good. (And I am definitely not lacking in zeal. I need to seek God for more knowledge.)

-While you wait, seek, serve, and set self aside.

So there it is. I will be waiting and seeking and if you need me I will serve you because I am setting myself aside. God will bring all things together in his perfect time and I am resting in his holiness.

See you when I see you, friends. God bless you in all you peruse.