Category: Uncategorized

Sweet Memory of Yesterday

  It is Tuesday. Back at it again. Today should be a bit better…we are closer to Friday.  Sometimes that doesn’t bring the energy needed and today, I’m already drained, already over it, already ready to return home.  Will today be a long day?  Sure feels like it.

Already this morning I’ve had to repeatedly tell students to be quiet during announcements, remove a child from their seat because they were continuously distracting others, and take up a stuffed animal?  Why are we bringing toys to school as 6th graders?  (Oh because we need more attention?  Because parents just send their children to their rooms when they get home and don’t talk to them?)  This happened all within 5 minutes of each other.  Before 9:00 this morning during a 6th grade meeting. 

Don’t allow the evil ones to defeat you I say to myself.  Who are the evil ones you say?  YOUR CHILDREN!!! YOUR CHILDREN are the evil ones that nest as Medusa’s hair!  They nap under the veil of Hades himself!!!  They sway, walk, and Tic Tok dance to the hypnotic beats of Pandora’s Box.

Sorry, I lost my self.  Allow me time to find it again. 

 Let me think back to yesterday.  Yesterday, just as I said I would do in yesterday’s writing, The Melodious Monday Blues, I did something spontaneous.  I asked the huz-band out for a pre-dinner date.  We do have the enjoyable privilege of working together, but yesterday he had jury duty, so we didn’t get to see each other before leaving the house.  We met up and shared an appetizer and drank sweet tea together. 

It was good seeing my friend.  We caught up and discussed each other’s day.  Frustrations were vented, Jokes were had, and sips were slurped.  This was time shared between the two of us. Even if just for a little while.  This is a sweet memory of yesterday.  

Now once again I can see the light at the end of this dreary week-long tunnel.  Sweet thoughts of him, encourage me to make it, if not just to see his sweet face again to sip tea.

A Symphonic Experience

A Bittersweet Symphony

As a teacher, I am often invited to my students’ performances.  Whether it’s for choir, band, or a sporting event, and this year was no exception.  Last night I was invited to the school’s band concert.  The students’ invite are always the day of the performance and the students naively believe that whomever they are inviting should be comfortable with dropping any plans they might have to see them perform.  In all truth, they have no regard for the teacher being tired, living in a different city from the school, or having any prior engagements.  Normally my response is, “I’ll try to make it” knowing deep down inside I would not be leaving my home once I got there.  Well, last night I actually decided I would attend. I had classes asking me to attend, so I went.

The concert was held at the feeder high school that our students would attend upon completing 8th grade at our Junior High.  When I walked into the auditorium, I soon heard students excitedly saying “She’s here” and eagerly calling my name so that I could see them and wave back.  These are 6th graders, so they are still very proud and eager to impress their teachers.

Before the concert began, I thought about my time in band and how great I believed my band performances were, and then began to I wonder what I would be hearing. Not necessarily the music selection, but what it would sound like. Would it be something just as great or even better than my Junior High band performances?  I then remembered a car commercial that aired towards the end of last year (2022). In the commercial, there’s a lady at her child’s Christmas Band Concert and it shows her in the driver’s side reclining her seat. You soon hear the squeaks and blurts of noise meant to be the melodious sounds coming from metal and wood in its attempt to become a collective symphonic sound. As this is happening she is seen bringing the windows up in an effort to block out the majority of the music.

When my students’ first note rang out,  I imagined being this woman.  Their first note sounded as if they were beginning the warm-up. You know that sound that sounds like a garble of notes before the actual song is played?  I smiled. My students had worked so hard to sound so terrible.  They were so proud of their ineptitude to be one with their instrument.  They were desperately trying to work as a unit but there was mostly failure…, but it was so cute.  Upon finishing their first song, they beamed big and bright in their finest ensembles, in their misstep to be a unified ensemble. 

But like every parent there, I knew that when I saw them the next day, it would be my duty to inform them of how great they sounded. To let them know how wonderful they looked, and how I was so proud of the great job they had done. Well done 6th Grade Band…Well Done! A lesson can be learned from this: Sometimes the outcome may not show your hard-work. More importantly my students were delighted to see me there and I was proud of myself for sacrificing my time to come see them…even if it was just for two whole songs.

Click below to see the commercial:

https://youtu.be/AvV6ufWJqN0

Continue

It was the worst of times, but we were able to continue.

For some reason during the pandemic I thought I would have a lot to share and have a lot say. With the constant showing of murders, marches, and worldwide deaths shown on the news, I didn’t express much about what I was hearing and witnessing. Maybe because so much seemed to be happening all at the same time. I instead wanted to disappear just to feel safe.

I felt as if I had nothing more to say. Maybe it was too overwhelming to find the words that truly captured the confusion and fear I was internalizing.  My America and Our World was in open chaos. All at a standstill with people looking towards anything or anyone for answers and a true sense of hope.

When I wasn’t consumed with the reality of the world around me, life was …peaceful. I enjoyed the solitude of being shutdown while at home. Being at home became a necessary distraction for me…my Wardrobe, my Leaky Cauldron, my Pandora. The world seemed to be stuck in disarray. This would be a time history would never forget.

So much has happened since 2020. There’s been so much change.   Though the world is no longer at a stand still, confusion and fear still manage to find a way in, but that’s just human nature.  We all have those moments… . I don’t think we’ll get back to a place where all of the world is shut down, but we are still flourishing in a chaotic state. The pandemic brought about improvements in the areas that seemed to be the root of some stagnant issues that erupted during this time regarding medicine, technology, and civil rights. Positives did come out of the negative events taking place.

On a daily basis we are still reminded of the madness and darkness of mankind. When will it ever get better? It’s been 3 years since I have written on my blog. What do I have to say now? That despite the coldness of man’s heart and the evil that walks about the earth, we have to keep believing that if we made it then, we can and we will continue.  

Tears for George Floyd

Symbols are all around us.  They can be as simple as representing the Golden Arches of a company or they can have a more serious meaning and represent the ideals of spirituality, prosperity, or evil.

In high school, I loved analyzing the archetypes and symbolism read in literature during English AP class.  I was amazed at uncovering the “hidden” meaning behind what a character said and did. There was purpose in why the character looked the way they did and in the many details of a scene. From the colors used to the placement of shadows. From the time of day to the type of weather…It was all important. Every detail was done on purpose and added life and mystery to the story. I sometimes tend to look at life in this same way.

Last week it seemed to rain everyday in the Houston area.  I could easily say the rain was an effect of the hurricane that was in the Gulf, but I believe the rain represented the tears of the city. With grey and gloomy skies unable to suppress their tears, the city of Houston mourned the unjust murder of her son, George Floyd. May his death never be forgotten, so that justice will come and that same justice will stay. 

Black Lives Matter

Mural created in memory of George Floyd——Houston,TX.
Change

Black and Bullied

When we stand up for injustice, we are told that we shouldn’t.  Whether peaceful and silent, or loud and violent we’re continuously told that it’s best to keep out of it, but what about the bullied?

by Kat's Eye View
History

What is Juneteenth

“What is Juneteenth?  June 10th?  Am I saying it right?  Is it a made up word?,”  My mom and I looked around in confusion because we had never heard of this word before.  See, I’m not originally from Texas, and in school, I had always been taught that slavery had ended in 1865.  It wasn’t…

by Kat's Eye View

Black and Bullied

When we stand up for injustice, we are told that we shouldn’t.  Whether peaceful and silent, or loud and violent we’re continuously told that it’s best to keep out of it, but what about the bullied?

Another man was killed in broad daylight because he was seen to be threatening.  This “threat” was now lying face down with his hands handcuffed behind him, eventually begging for his mother and for his humanly instinct to breathe.   He’s already in a position that would require assistance to get up, so how does he continue to be a threat?  The only thing threatening about him was his full lips, broad nose, coarse hair, deep voice, broad shoulders, and dark skin.  Being a black man made him threatening.  This is something that’s been happening since the first African set foot on American soil at the hands of white people.  I was once told that since black people, to some, are not seen as having souls, like animals, killing them is no big deal.  George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery, and too many others are dead because they were black.

The world has been trained to view black people as threatening and in a negative light.  The world has been trained to view black people as loud, obnoxious, wild, and lazy.  Black women are viewed as ratchet, ghetto, hood, overtly sexy, jealous, and angry; yet our African features, our movements, our style, our personality is imitated throughout the world. Black men are viewed as being angry, uneducated, and thugs, yet the way they “entertain”, the way they move, and their style is envied all over the world.  We are seen as savages, uncivilized, uncouth, and less than second-rate. 

No matter how much black people have adapted to Western European standards… no matter how much of our African traditions and heritage was beat out of us to be replaced by the customs and traditions of our slave owners, no matter how much we’ve done to assimilate, we will NEVER be seen as equal through the eyes of many.  We’ve been told to change the way we speak, the way we dress, and our hair because the way it grows out of our scalp is not right.  It isn’t decent and it’s unacceptable.  Black people will always have to continue to do more to prove ourselves, and even then, some would prefer to believe that we must have done something unethical to have been able to achieve.

When we stand up for injustice, we are told that we shouldn’t.  Whether peaceful and silent, or loud and violent we’re continuously told that it’s best to keep out of it, stay quiet on the issue, and just run after the ball or continue to play fetch.  We’re supposed to just go along and never speak up.  “Just do your job and stay quiet to make life easier for yourselves”.  We’re told that we should feel blessed and not complain about any mistreatment.  But what about the bullied?

We teach children that if they are being bullied, they should tell someone that has the authority to bring an end to the bullying.  The goal is to take the power away from the bully so that the victim can feel strengthened and no longer feel alone.  This can only work if the bullying is truly stopped.  If not, the bully will continue on knowing they’re able to get away with their actions.  If the one being bullied continues to keep their frustrations inside while feeling voiceless… if they have told the appropriate persons and nothing has changed, the bullied tends to do something dramatic to finally be heard.  From my observations, the bullied either violently takes it out on the school or on themselves.  When this happens all that knew about the victim’s situation begin to  speak up out of regret and remorse, for not having taken the child more seriously, for not being aware, or for not doing enough.

Too many times the bullies have been allowed to get away with their actions.  They’ve gotten a slap on the wrist, so they continue to get away with actual murder.  The thing is, by now all that have the authority, have seen the signs and have done nothing. Those that were supposed to listen to us didn’t and are now feeling remorse and regret.  With the use of social media and smart phones the signs of hate can not be ignored; but they have been ignored.  You ignored us and told us that we just needed to work hard and obey the laws and everything would be okay.  You ignored us and told us we were making something out of nothing.  You ignored us and told us that you didn’t believe our tales of the racial injustices we’ve experienced.  You told us that if we just change something about ourselves things would get better.  The bullied are tired.  They’ve been tired.  In the last few years the bullied silently attempted to protest, and the meaning behind it was purposefully misinterpreted. 

The bullied will no longer silent in their protest, and now many are taking dramatic action. We are screaming out for change! We are screaming out for justice! We are screaming out for Equality! We are screaming out because it is right! We are screaming out because we matter! 

My Life Matters–My Husband’s Life Matters–My Family’s Life Matters–                                Black Lives Matter!

To read about the Featured Image, please click the underlined link.da52f869-d1dd-476f-be36-e8dedf2378a2

Gram Gram said WHAT?

Yesterday was Mother’s Day.  Happy Mother’s Day to all of the wonderful mother’s and future wonderful mothers out there in the world.  Happy Mother’s Day to the beautiful mother’s of the past, that despite the hardships still mothered. For many this is an easier day to celebrate than Father’s Day.  For some it used to…

by Kat's Eye View

That Time I Tried to Cuss

“I don’t give a damn shit!” I blurted out.  I had done it!  I finally said a curse word…out loud! I know, I know.  I wasn’t pairing the words up correctly, but oh this felt good!

Today, while the Huz-band and I were out for lunch, we heard a young guy, possibly around 18 or 19, use the F word (Fucking) around his mother to describe how great a friend of his was.  We both looked at each other like, “Did he just say that in front of his mom”?  We would have never thought to say anything like that in front of our parents and we’re much older than he is.

This led me to thinking about curse words.  I didn’t grow up with profanity being used in my home.  My parents didn’t use them so the only time I would hear a “bad word” was every now and again on television, whenever I wasn’t watching cartoons, or by the “bad” kids at school.  I remember a time in 5th grade when my classmates decided to start using curse words.  This was a big deal.  The words would be used in the privacy of our peers of course, and during recess.  Pretty much anytime an adult’s ear wasn’t around lurking.

I can remember really trying to decide if I should or shouldn’t participate in this.  Since I grew up in a Christian home, my parents really did their best with trying to instill in me to only do things that would be pleasing to the Lord. That meant that cursing was not an option.  My friends knew that I was a “church girl”, but the peer pressure was still on.

One day a teacher changed their mind on allowing me and a few classmates to do something.  I don’t remember what it was, but the teacher had said we could do something, then they changed their mind and said we couldn’t.  We were all upset, and my friends started cussing away, as best as any fifth graders could do.  I too was very upset, mumbling, and complaining, but I never cursed.

Then my friend Julia said, “Come on, curse.  You know you want to.  It’ll feel good”.

This was 5th grade temptation at its finest.

My response was, “I don’t know how.”

Julia continued with, “Girl, just say whatever you want.  It doesn’t matter.  Just get it out!”

I remained quiet as I thought about Julia’s words.  “Should I give in?” I thought to myself.

“I don’t give a damn shit!” I blurted out.  I had done it!  I finally said a curse word…out loud!  “She gets on my mother-damn nerves!” I added.

I know, I know.  I wasn’t pairing the words up correctly, but oh this felt good!  “That stupid shit woman always messing everything up!” I added.  Yes, I am aware I needed practice and my current students could have cursed circles around me.

Remember, I told ya’ll I wasn’t around people that cursed.  I mostly watched cartoons, so I was doing my best!  I was saying the only words I felt comfortable saying.  I had no idea how to say them so they’d make since, but the point was I had cussed.  Miss Goody-two-shoes had done it!

Julia put her arms around my shoulders and said, “Okay. That’s enough!  Don’t you feel better?”

It did feel good to get the frustration out, but I didn’t feel better.  I felt bad.  I felt horrible.  I quietly asked God to forgive me because I knew I hadn’t made Him proud.  I had done something that wasn’t me.  Something that made me appear to be just like everyone else all so that I could fit in.  This was the last day I used that type of language at school.  Even to this day when Satan’s little minions are working my nerves, I never release the harmonious phrases that swirl in my mind.  Nay will I utter such vile expressions towards the young inhabitants I edify.  Nay I say, Nay!  Although tempting, because they hear these epithets at home and sneakily use them in the hallways, I dare not do the same…I pray.

On a more serious note, the older I get the more I realize why I hear people of the church use profanity.  It’s not because they don’t love God and are not striving to live a life pleasing to him, it’s possibly just because sometimes…a little more vocabulary is needed to express one’s frustrations or even joy.  Sometimes the only way to reach someone is to speak to them in a way they truly understand.  I know there are many places in the world where words considered as curse words, are no big deal whether you go to church or not.  It’s just a part of their daily speaking like saying Hello, Bye, or Leave me alone.

Cursing, I believe, can be an art form.  Some people are truly talented in this area.  They know exactly how to place those words, exactly where they need to go.  Whether to make a story comical or just to be used in general speaking.  To this day I admit that I am not a true participator in the art of cursing and I do make an effort to not use them, but who knows what the future may hold, so don’t try me.  I’m grown now and I have a better grasp on how to put them words together.

Even still, I could never use profanity in front of a parent like that young guy I spoke of earlier did, no matter how grown I am.  These lips would be rattling on the floor.  Could you and would you be able to get away with it?

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Check out a few of my previous posts below:

Featured Image obtained from: rd.com

A Divine Perspective 18: Pride & Retaliation

No longer do we continue to think with our heart or with understanding, but we end up making emotional decisions that can have us walking around looking like a jackass.

Quietly and anonymously I sit, in one of my favorite places.  Surrounded by thousands of words, silently expressed and shared through the medium of literature.  I’m in the process of brainstorming a post for my newly Sunday posting called A Divine Perspective, but all I can focus on is this man walking very closely to me, and a sudden foul odor.  I know this man didn’t just do what I think…did he just walk pass me and fart?  In this type of situation, what do I do?  Should I confront this older gentleman, or nah?  What would this solve? All that would do is get me kicked out, although it would allow this very small population of people to know that I didn’t cause the Funk that is now hovering in the air.

What is that smell

Since I am one to never want to add to the stereotype of the so called “ghetto, loud, aggressive, angry, black person, I chose to not make a fool of myself.  However, as I find a new seat, I will allow him to hear my disgust as I use my inside voice to utter my displeasure and rebuke him for allowing Satan’s minions to exit his boom-boom room.  That’ll teach him! Now he knows how I feel. Hmph!

This made me think about retaliation and how far some people will go to get back at someone who wronged them.  Is it really necessary?  Why do we as a human race feel the need to get back at the one who we feel has wronged us?  Why is this so important and why do we feel “getting back” would bring us satisfaction?

The world is all about the Get Back, Getting Even, the I’mma Show You.  It’s like we have this need for Retaliating.  You see this especially on the reality television shows.  On these shows whenever someone feels insulted, a fight is sure to happen.  Drinks, fists, shoes, and wigs start flying all over the place, because someone’s pride has been damaged and they must retaliate. In other words, the ONLY way to let you know what you not gon’ do and how you not gon’ talk to me or how you not gon’ treat me, is by introducing these hands to your face along with having a nice session of C.Y.O (Cuss You Out) therapy.  In the end, no one is satisfied, everyone involved is hurt, and sometimes laws are broken. Friendships and reputations are challenged and ended because someone had to retaliate.

People!!!  Here me now! We’ve got to do better.  I don’t want to say be the bigger person, but like the Five Heartbeats said, “Two wrongs don’t make a right”.  We become so upset and frustrated because our pride has been chipped, cracked, and shattered.  Then retaliation rears its angry head.  No longer do we continue to think with our heart or with understanding, but we end up making emotional decisions that can lead to biting us in our boom-boom room and have us walking around looking like a jackass.  All of this because of our pride being hurt.  Proverbs 16:18 in the Bible says, “Pride goeth before destruction”.

Don’t allow your pride and your desire to get back at the person that hurt you, bring you to a place that destroys you.  Don’t allow your pride to get the better of you and cause you to end up in a regrettable moment that now has you shaking your head in disbelief, and embarrassment, all the while asking yourself, “What have I done”? Don’t be that person. Think about your family and what this decision could do to them.  Is the situation really worth it?

Someone once said, “He who angers you, conquers you”. Don’t allow anyone to conquer you.  Whether it be yourself or someone attacking your pride. Don’t allow your hurt to cause you to make an emotional attack because your pride has been conquered, and you just had to retaliate.  Be smart in all of your choices no matter how angry you feel.  Think, will this choice have a positive impact or a negative impact?  Be the bigger, better, and smarter person and walk away.  You’ve got too much in life to look forward to, than to allow 30 seconds of anger get the best of you.  Now, go out and live your best Life!

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Read some of my previous Soul Food Sunday Posts.  My Sunday Posts are now called A Divine Perspective.

Read some of my previous posts from during the week.

New Blog Posts Every Sunday, Tuesday, & Thursday

Life, Liberty, & the Pursuit of Being Me

If you’re interested, then you can journey with me as I continue to learn about myself and express my thoughts on Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Being Me.

I’ve thought about changing my blog and starting an online gossip magazine.  It would feature the latest news and gossip on celebrities.  It’d probably get more views am I right?  The thing is, it’s easier to write about the lives of other people. To give opinions on the way they live their lives is easier and possibly more interesting, but it takes a lot of guts to write about the journey you are on.

To expose your own imperfections and inner thoughts.  To share with the world the experiences you’ve had is courageous, I think.  All of those various situations and circumstances I’ve attempted to conceal due to shame from childhood till now. This isn’t something I have to do.  No one is asking me to share these tales and these thoughts. This is something I’ve chosen to do.  To release myself to the thoughts and opinions of others, but on my own terms.  The way I am most comfortable doing so.

It could be due to the fact that I’m fully aware that I have been misunderstood majority of my life.  My dad and I joked about this a few weeks ago because not too many people grew up like me.  Being aware, even at an early age that I am sometimes unrelatable, I’ve attempted to blend in.  It’s been a survival method for me. Not wanting to appear too different because differences lead to being noticed with the possibility of receiving negative consequences.

I use this platform as a way to explain myself.  To showcase why I am the way that I am.  Allowing my introverted-ness to have a voice because you won’t consistently hear it on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, or any other Social Media platform.  I just can’t be on Facebook every hour posting something.  I am not a selfie poser that must check the lighting to show the outfit of the day or my newest hairstyle.  I feel uncomfortable doing these things on those sites.  Ironically, I feel more at home on my website, my blog, which is my place of release doing those things.

So this is where I am most freely showing you who I am and the place I feel most safe to do so.  All at my own pace, about whatever I want, and however I want.  I will always as best as I can be respectful….

I’m now okay with being different.  I no longer have the desire to try to blend in and conform.  I am finally okay with being me.   If you’re interested, then you can journey with me as I continue to learn about myself and express my thoughts on Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Being Me.

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Please read my previous blog post: Venting: Feeling Unappreciated

Venting: Feeling Unappreciated

It would be nice to hear that my hard work is noticed by my superiors. It would just be nice to receive genuine acknowledgement.

I don’t want much and I’ve never been one to want more than what’s deserving of me.  However, I do want to be appreciated, acknowledged, and praised.  Who doesn’t?  I don’t desire this all the time and not just for any reason, but it would be nice when I am doing my job and doing it well.  As an adult I realized that I have a tendency to be a people pleaser.  When I say people I mean my superiors.  I always want to show them that I’m doing what I am supposed to do well.

I work my butt off every day at work and I am never praised for a job well done.  For all the years I’ve been a teacher.  Some may think that this means I’m not doing a job well done, but my evaluations and test scores say other wise.  I build relationships with the challenging students same as I do the lovable ones without bribing them with candy.  I don’t need to blow a whistle in my classroom to calm my students down, because they respect the class expectations enough to get quiet when I tell them to.  The same teachers being nominated for various awards are the same ones watching how I  handle the difficult children that we both share and trying to mimic me.

I provide laughter into my classroom to build a safe haven and a family atmosphere.  I encourage my students every day and spend too many hours trying to make sure that I am always giving them the best of me.  I do all I am supposed to do in this profession and I am never acknowledged individually.  Of course, the group praise is always given because the faculty made the school look good for having high test scores.  The “I can’t do this without you all” and the “You guys work so hard”, is common and cliche’ by now, but individually? Never.  After a while, it hurts.  I begin to feel unappreciated.

I didn’t become a teacher for the praise and I know that I’m doing a great job. I am often told this by my colleagues and I just know.  We all know when we are truly doing a good job or a horrible job at something.  I can tell that my current students enjoy me and our class  My previous students continue to reach out to to me to remind me of what they remember learning and to tell me how much they enjoyed having me as their teacher.  Honestly that is why I became an educator.  To make a difference in the lives of students and to be remembered by them as I remember my favorite teachers.  For making an impact and being there for them when they felt alone.

It just would just be nice to receive genuine acknowledgment from those that I keep making look good to their superiors, that they notice a job well done from me.

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Read my previous post here:

Accomplish Something

A Divine Perspective 17: Be Humble…

A Divine Perspective 17: Be Humble…

Some of us like to walk around like our “mmph don’t stink”.  As if everything in our life is perfect and worthy of envy.

Some of us like to walk around like our “mmph don’t stink”.  As if everything in our life is perfect and worthy of envy.  In 2 Corinthians 12, the apostle Paul talks about how he prayed for God to remove the “thorn in his flesh”.  To remove this thing about him that he struggles with.  To paraphrase, he said that God told him that he wouldn’t remove it because He gave him grace to endure it.  What ever Paul’s thorn was, it was something that kept him on his knees and from being conceited.  Something that kept him near the cross.  It was a reminder that he didn’t get to the place he was without God and that he couldn’t get through it without the grace of God.

No matter how far we’ve come in life with our many accomplishments; with our numerous titles and degrees, there is something in our lives that makes those achievements irrelevant.  I’m not trying to say that God wants you to remember your failures or your struggles, but he wants you to remember that it was Him that brought you from where you came from and His Grace is keeping you from where you could be.  What is the thorn in your life that keeps you humble?  

This scripture also discusses how God encouraged Paul by saying “my power is made perfect in weakness”.  In other words, you may be weak in this area, but when you are weak God is strong.  This is a beautiful reminder that in those times of weakness, calling on God will give you strength because He is made strong in our times of weakness.  He is our Father and He has our best interest at heart.

We should never get too proud and forget where we come from.  We should never forget that it was God’s grace that brought us through those difficult times or is currently bringing us through the difficult time.  Be humble and remember that God is the reason you are where you are. Continue to call on him for your strength.

 

2 Corinthians 12 New International Version (NIV)

Paul’s Vision and His Thorn

12 7 Therefore, in order to keep me from becoming conceited, I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. 8 Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. 9 But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. 10 That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

 

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A Divine Perspective, formerly called Soul Food Sundays, are posted every Sunday.

Accomplish Something

So as I’m thinking about this topic and formatting it to black and white, I realize that I’m wrong.

In one of my last posts, The Follow Through, I mentioned that I wanted to accomplish something.  That’s not to say I’ve never accomplished anything in my life.  The official definition of the word accomplishment is something that has been achieved successfully. Technically, I’ve done this.  I have been successful in life, having therefore accomplished certain regular life goals.  For me though, I see an accomplishment as something done that isn’t a part of the regular routine of life or a challenge.

I became a teacher and have had the privilege of teaching close to 2,000 students all of these years.  That number doesn’t include students that I’ve had to encourage and reprimand that weren’t on my class rosters.  I’ve been married to the man beyond my wildest dreams for 12 years, happily, which in itself is no small feat.  Not everyone can say the same while smiling.  However, these aren’t the things I’m speaking about when it comes to my definition of an accomplishment.

I see an accomplishment as living in another country for like a year or backpacking across Europe (it doesn’t necessarily have to be Europe).  Making a living from a hobby, losing a tremendous amount of weight, preparing and running in a marathon, or becoming an entrepreneur….  These are the types of things I feel are accomplishments because they aren’t necessarily planned out, not the regular and expected, but the unexpected.  They aren’t the typical things that go along with the the everyday plans of life.  They’re just things that one chooses to do and follows through with it.

So as I’m thinking about this topic and formatting it to black and white, I realize that everything I said I don’t count as an accomplishment actually is an accomplishment.  Getting married and twelve years later still enjoying it are two accomplishments in one. Attending and completing college is another, I went through some unplanned challenges but was still able to succeed in walking across that university stage.   Even my career of being a teacher.  You may not believe it, but teaching is umm, how can I say this?  It’s not for the timid and it isn’t the colorful world of crayons, bows, and story time.  It’s uh,… wooo, something else, but I’ll leave the details (the good and the bad) in another post.  I will say that dealing with depression, self doubt, and the feeling of inadequacy from administration and colleagues can be a lot, but making it through is an accomplishment.

The problem is me.  I have to change my view and the way I look at life.  Accomplishments are more than just the big write the vision and make it plain things.  They are the dictionary definition.  Those memorable situations that brought along with it some challenges.  Not just the challenges themselves.  Accomplishments are things done that aren’t part of the routine of life.  It’s just not fair for me to only acknowledge accomplishments, through one frame of thinking.

We all have achieved something successfully, whether it was planned or unexpected.  No matter how it’s viewed.  Go ahead and give yourself a pat on the back, say a thank you God, and know that you were meant to succeed in that past or present endeavor.

Being Successful in whatever you’ve put your mind to do is making an accomplishment.

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Back after Break

I can’t believe how ready I was to return to school.  To be back from break.  This year has been different.  I’m not as stressed as I would normally be.

I can’t believe how ready I was to return to school yesterday.  To be back from break.  I had a good two weeks off and of course I wouldn’t have minded a little more time off, but surprisingly I was really looking forward to returning to school.  I honestly don’t know when the last time I’ve felt this way about a holiday break ending.

This year has been different for me.  I’m not as stressed as I would normally be.  This school year is more relaxed, which is taking some getting used to. This is the first year that I’ve had this sense of freedom EVER in my career.  I’ve never not taught a state tested subject until this year, so I’m starting to feel as if I can be like famed singer Jill Scott and “live my life like its Golden”!

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The pressure is gone.  This would normally be the time of year that I would be preparing my students for their test, with intensity.  Obviously preparation begins as soon as the first lesson is taught in August, but after Winter Break lessons are taught with even more rigor.

Yesterday, before I left to go home, I felt as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.  For one thing, I was able to leave  work on time.  I’m normally not able to do that, so it felt odd.  Like there was something that I had forgotten to do.  There seems to always be something for me to do that didn’t get done during the day or something that urgently must be handled for the next day.  There’s always copies to run, power points to complete, parent calls to make, emails to catch up on, grading, or revising lessons.  I’m not used to this feeling of release; at least not in January. I normally tend to feel burden-less after my subject’s state test has been given, which is around April or May (school ends in late May).

Testing Season

There’s always this pressure for your students to do really well.  As if their scores are a reflection of the teachers ability to teach.  This can be a bit stressful since it’s as though many students seem to not really care about testing or classwork until it’s actually time for testing or report cards.  I’ve always been made to feel that the only way to prove I’m “doing my job” well, is if my students show that they are passing these mandated state tests.  A high passing rate means a teacher is fulfilling their job requirements of teaching! #sarcasm

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If these tests were very necessary for student scholastic success, then why aren’t they required in private schools?  I’ve always gone above and beyond in making sure my students are prepared and ready, but the excess pressures that are added on to an already stressful job is unnecessary.  It begs you to ask the question, “What did I do in life to deserve this torturous hell on Earth”?

So again, yes.  Yes, Yes, Yes!!! I am glad to no longer be under the heal of oppression.  It’s actually helped me to look forward to coming in to work…on a Monday and after a two week break!

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Read my Previous Post: A Divine Perspective 15: Looking Back

Read my Previous Post: Divorce is NOT an Option

  • Featured Image Photo Credit: weareteachers.org
  • Photo Credit: Jill Scott album cover/UK version:Sbme Import
  • Photo Credit: Bugs Bunny/Daffy Duck/: freedomworks.org/Looney Tunes
  • Photo Credit: Comic Strip: Oregon Saving Our Schools
  • Photo Credit: memegenerator.net

 

A Divine Perspective 16:Walking in Expectation

As children of God we should have the same expectations for the promises of God, that my pups have for the food from my plate. You’ve got to have the faith to believe that God will do it and then walk with Expectation.

A Divine Perspective 16: Walking in Expectation

My puppies, have such a great life!  They have their toys, snacks, and as much playtime with mommy and daddy as we possibly can manage.  Every blanket we have for tv watching somehow becomes theirs, and they then become snuggle blankets.  These pups know they are loved.  Friends and family say they are spoiled.  My response, “They aren’t spoiled, they’re just well taken cared of.”

They do have a tendency to be barkers towards strangers and anything out of order, and they get excited when it’s time to eat.   Let me clarify, They get excited when it’s time for my husband and myself to eat. They seem to believe that the Huz-band and I are supposed to share our food with them.  Meaning, they beg.  When it is time for us to eat, all of their focus is turned to us.  Kody uses his eyes for intense staring, Kasey holds his front paws together while moving them up and down as if he were praying, and they both sometimes become vocal with low growling, since obviously we aren’t noticing their attention-grabbing ways of begging.  They have such high expectations, and faith that we will eventually give in to them and sometimes we do.

As children of God we should have the same expectations for the promises of God, that my pups have for the food from my plate.  They’re so used to getting blessed that even when we bring shopping bags in the house they try to look and see if anything is for them.  Like them, we need to be looking for and seeking out our blessings.

Our heavenly father is the creator of the universe and the giver of marvelous ideas.  He has everything you need.  Just ask, in his name.  Have the faith that he will provide and then walk in the expectation that God wants the best for you.

That idea that you know could have only come from God: Do It, Stay Focused, & Follow Through with it!  If He gave you the idea, why wouldn’t He help you to see it through? He’s blessed you before.  He’s shown himself to answer your prayers and to give you the desires of your heart before, so why wouldn’t he do it again? You’ve got to have the faith to believe that God will do it and then walk with Expectation. Once He’s provided, share your testimony with others, so that they may know of the goodness of the Lord.

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My Puppy Boys: Kasey (Polar Bear) & Kody (Panda Bear) begging while I’m eating.

Read my Previous blog post : Divorce is NOT an Option

Read my Previous Soul Food Sunday post: A Divine Perspective 15: Looking Back

Divorce is NOT an Option

It was April 1992 when my parents finalized their divorce.  I didn’t know what the word meant, but I didn’t like the sound of it. I knew that nothing good came from it.

Divorce is NOT an Option

*If I’m not mistaken, it was April 1992 when my parents finalized their divorce.  Being an only child, this was difficult to deal with… alone.  I remember the time that led up to this immortalized memory.  The time when it seemed things were looking worse for my parents.  They were arguing more than usual and I remember days when my mom wouldn’t get out of the bed.  I didn’t know what was happening nor what any end result could be. I just tried to act as normal as possible.

*I remember the day I was told that my parents would be getting a DIVORCE.  Hearing this word was like a sudden punch in the gut. I didn’t know what the word meant, but I didn’t like the sound of it.  It was a word that sounded mean, evil, and disastrous.  I knew that nothing good could come from it, and for some reason I knew that my life would be forever changing. This was a decision that, at the time, my parents believed was best for them.

When my huz-band and I were dating, we knew we had found “the one” and because of my experience with divorce, we decided that divorce would be “against our religious beliefs”. I don’t believe anyone wants to go through the agony and pain of divorce. We would do everything within our power to prevent that word from being a choice. Divorce would not be an option. We promised each other to discuss everything, no matter how challenging it may be, and to continue to always work on our communication.    I’m sure the Huz-band has had times of thinking “What the hell have I gotten myself into”?  If I’ve thought and murmured these words, I know he has… but we have never once lost faith in Us.  We both have had our moments of being the more challenging one. Of course we will because challenges will come, but we have never allowed our pride, emotions, or frustrations to cause us to walk away.

I thank God that I was blessed with a spouse that continues to be patient with me even when I can be difficult and emotional and spoiled and unsure.  He’s never tried to change me, but has only encouraged me to be my best self.  We lift each other up.  We hold each other accountable and have realized that we are partners, a team orchestrated by God…not by chance.   We started off as friends, and unexpectedly our friendship grew into something magical.  I was recently asked if I could imagine myself without him.  I could, but I’d desperately be trying to get him back.  There’s no one else for me.

Happy Anniversary to Me & the Huz-band!!

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*In no way was this meant to insult, embarrass, or degrade my parents. I love them dearly and understand that sometimes difficult choices have to be made in order to gain personal peace.

Check out my last Blog Post—>The Follow Through

December 29, 2018:  Love is You!

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The Follow Through

No basketball shot or volleyball serve can be complete without a follow through.  Same with goals in life.  It’s always easy to begin, ….

Happy New Year to Everyone all over the World! For some, this is their favorite time of the year because it’s like getting a do over.  For others it’s a time to welcome new adventures or turning to a new chapter in the book of You.

I think I’m looking forward to a little bit of both really.   A fresh start and looking forward to what this New Year will bring.  The summer of 2019, was a bit rocky and unexpected.   The chaos of what it brought overshadows anything that happened earlier or later in the year.

Today and yesterday I’ve been quietly thinking about what I can focus on achieving in this New Year.  I’m at a point where I need to think about the big picture.  I thought I’d always done this, but I realize I’ve always been okay with not completing my goals and plans.  This year I want to live as if this is the last resort so that I can accomplish… something.  The follow through is necessary.

My 6th grade teacher told me that I struggled with seeing things through to the end.  His words have continued to stay with me, until of course, I would forget them, but they were still embedded in my mind.  Recently watching an episode of “Married with Children”, one of the characters was told this same thing.  It was then I remembered Mr. Casteel’s piercing words.  This also helped to remind me that I can no longer live just for now.  I’ve become too complacent with just going with the flow and falling back on the present.  I must live and act with urgency.  I need to be focused on the future and all that may come with it.

No basketball shot or volleyball serve can be complete without a follow through.  Same with goals in life.  It’s always easy to begin, but the continuation through to its finish is what matters even when rough patches come.  I want to have 20/20 vision when looking at the dreams I want out of life.  I want to see all that comes with it, so I can’t allow the start to also be the end.  I must remember the follow through.

To read about my Summer of 2019, click here—-> Summer 2019

Check out my previous blog post here—> It’s Finally Christmas Time!

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HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

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