Return to Zero, The Movie

In March, my friend, Lucy, sent me a message with a link and wrote, "Have you seen this?"

The link was to a website for Return to Zero, the movie.

I had not.

The theme of the film is something that is close to mine and Lucy's hearts but one that isn't spoken about, written about, or dwelt upon very often: STILLBIRTH.

Lucy and I "met" online through our mutual friend, Amy, in January of 2010. Amy called to ask me, mother of baby Jack, a STILLBORN baby, if I would mind contacting her friend who along with her husband, Mike, had twins a couple of months before. The babies were a boy and a girl. Their baby girl, Allie Grace, was born healthy, but their baby boy, James Michael, was STILLBORN.

Lucy needed a connection. She needed comfort. She needed direction. She needed someone to talk to that knew her pain. I would provide a little bit of all these things for Lucy, until she was able to find them closer to home and then she would eventually provide those things for some other mother who had experienced STILLBIRTH.

There are thousands of moms and dads just like Lucy and me. It isn't just something that USED to happen. You know, when the medical care wasn't good enough. A statistic is cited in the clip below that in the U.S. alone there are 26,000 STILLBIRTHS a year. That is:

500 pairs of empty mommy arms a month,

72 grieving daddies a day,

3 broken and heartsick sets of parents every hour.

The makers of this film would like to "break the silence" about STILLBIRTH specifically, but also all infant loss. Not everyone who experiences baby loss wants to talk about it but I think none of them wants it to be forgotten. I think the silence that needs to be broken is the one that feels like it is being imposed on those who have experienced the loss. It should be their choice whether to speak or to be quiet.

Even though I feel like I'm doing my own bit of "breaking the silence" now, after we lost Jack, I struggled to include him in my conversation. When I talked of him, I made others uncomfortable. Some, not all, would just walk away. Literally.

It is delicate. It is difficult. And as a result it is easier NOT to talk about it than to wade through the hard parts. I found out that once I got over sacrificing the memory of my beloved child for the sake of making someone else feel better, MOST were receptive. Sometimes they said something that was hurtful or ignorant, but in time, I found ways to let them know without making either of us feel embarrassed or hurt. Hopefully, the next time they encounter a similar situation, they will know what to say because I spoke.

While the subject of baby loss should never be blasé, it should be familiar enough that by being aware, we can help others.

Please watch this Glimpse of Return To Zero






I am a local leader for the film.  (Local leaders in Mississippi) As a local leader, I have pledged to tell others about the film and help get it to theaters by gathering support for it.

You can see a map that shows local leaders nationally but this is a global effort. Individuals and groups from all around the world are signing up to be local leaders and pledging to go see this movie. If you would like to Become a Local Leader also, please do so.

You can pledge to see this movie by clicking on this link: Pledge to go see this movie

You can put my name in as local leader on your form: Anna Janzen-Lancaster

And by all means, please share it if you would like others to see it also.

http://bit.ly/16H3uNz



Disclaimer: I have NOT SEEN this movie and it is not rated yet. I can tell you that it does have some foul language and has adult situations. It is a film about adult life. If those things will keep you from seeing a movie, you probably won't want to see this one. You know that I have written before about how we try and limit our exposure to media of all types, especially for our children. Our children will not be seeing this movie. I don't want them or myself to be exposed to those things unnecessarily. But sometimes, to tell the REAL LIFE story, it is necessary, because that is how it REALLY happens. It is up to you. It is not my intention to force this film on you. Just to let you know it is out there and that it's subject matter, MATTERS.


Anna Becoming

When Life Isn't Sunshine and Roses

In telling the story of Gran and I, I have tried to be honest and present things the way they really are but also, in the words that Bing and the Andrews Sisters sang, in life and on the blog, I've tried to "accentuate the positive, eliminate the negative, an' latch on to the affirmative" and not "mess with mister-in-between".



Well, I'm glad you enjoyed that piece because I'm about to deviate from that course of action to provide a little transparency.

I probably don't have to tell you that life isn't always sunshine and roses. It is easier when I write and then edit and edit and edit to tell you how it is all good, how I know that God is at work, and how appreciative I am of this experience. And honestly, I KNOW those things are true. Its just that here in my home, in reality and not on a computer screen with words, there are times I may not look like I KNOW. You might even say I look like I've never even HEARD of all those pious statements, much less believe them.

As I referenced at the end of my last blog post, I believe that God allowed me that rest on Mother's day weekend to prepare me for the coming days (or nights to be more exact).

The problems started on Monday morning. Granny was really confused and stayed awake in that state for 48 hours. On Wednesday night, she finally rested. Poor thing looked so peaked and pale on Thursday. She slept most of that day and all night that night. I thought we had turned a corner and that she would be much better after that. Not so. She slept a total of 2 hours (15 min increments) on Friday night and then slept a total of about 30 minutes on Saturday night.

Needless to say, by Sunday, I was not a nice, happy person anymore. Gran was better on Sunday but I could probably total the sleep and rest that I had for the week counting the hours with only the fingers of my two hands. No sleep=Anna-no-one-can-stand-to-be-around.

My nights had been filled with following Granny around while she wandered, answering her seemingly endless line of questioning, listening to her scoff at my answers, holding back hot tears, choking on my self-pity, begging God for at least 2 hours of sleep put together so that I wouldn't lose my mind.

Then the guilt:

I failed Granny. The poor woman didn't know that she had driven me to tears. She didn't know that she was keeping me from sleeping. She didn't know day from night. She didn't know that she had to be supervised all the time. She didn't know that I put her to bed 20 times at night. She didn't know that it was midnight instead of noon when she asked for a sandwich. She didn't know why she didn't want to finish it after I made it. She didn't understand why I didn't want to wash the dishes and let her dry after she was done.

I failed my family. I was short with my husband and shouted at my children. They didn't understand that I couldn't just go rest anytime I wanted. They weren't present for all of it to understand. I vented to my mom who can understand because she's been there and in doing so I made her feel bad for not being there more. The poor woman has no time to herself and I make her feel bad.

I asked for Gran. I wanted her to come here. I knew it would be hard. 

The same cycle began all over again yesterday evening. I think more of my fatigue at this point is mental. I fight the impulse to worry about tonight's rest or to be upset about something that I think will happen.

I know she is where she is supposed to be and that I am doing what is right by taking care of her. I love her. I know I want more comfort for HER and not for myself. I pray I change. I pray I rely on His strength and not my own. I pray that I can practice true selflessness someday and throw resentful selflessness in the garbage (because that isn't real anyway, is it?)

I don't write this to complain. I write this to let you know that it is a demanding, draining, difficult mission at times, and, that for now, those times are more often than not.  I write so that my fellow caregivers will see that when they feel like they aren't going to make it another night, they aren't alone in their struggles. It isn't easy all the time for me either. I write so that if you remember to, that you might offer up a prayer for us caring for our elderly loved ones. And most of all, I write to remind myself of what I KNOW.

Beautifully, after the darkest night, morning comes, I drink a strong cup of coffee, and everything becomes alright again. Gran laughs at me for looking so be-draggled and cranky and tells me I need to go back to bed. I laugh with her and say, "You know it." I make toast and know I'll be able to keep it together for one more day.

Then, like a balm for my wounds, Granny hands me her wrinkled, well-read (she reads it 10 times a day at least), paper copy of "The High Calling of an Everyday Life", and asks me if I've read it. I tell her that I wrote it. She smiles modestly, and says, "I didn't know I was that good." I give her a squeeze and tell her I love her. I thank God for one more night, even if it was a hard one.

Like always, God ministers to me through the songs of others. Right now this is the one that I'm feeling the most because, OH, how I need Him!

"Lord, I come, I confess
Bowing here I find my rest
Without You I fall apart
You're the One that guides my heart

Lord, I need You, oh, I need You,
Every hour I need You
My one defense, my righteousness
Oh, God, how I need you."

"Teach my song to rise to You
When temptation comes my way
And when I cannot stand I'll fall on You
Jesus, You're my hope and stay"

Matt Maher - Lord, I Need You Ft. Audrey Assad (Official Lyric Video) from matt-maher on GodTube.

Weekend Trip to Lawrenceburg--Part 2

Thanks for showing up for Part 2! If you haven't read Weekend Trip to Lawrenceburg--Part 1, hop on over there and do that now. Also, I forgot to post the link to The Amish, one of my favorite documentaries from American Experience. That film and my reaction to it deserve another blog post to themselves. Maybe I'll do that someday. But for now, we are finishing up our weekend overnight in Lawrenceburg, Tennessee.

That Sunday morning we woke earlier than I'd like. Oh well. (Someday, maybe I'll live with my granddaughter and she'll let me sleep in.) It is the way to make the most of your hours though. Eric is an early riser, ALWAYS.

We got dressed, ate the continental breakfast, packed up, checked out, and THEN..... we had nothing to do.

Sunday in a small southern town=everybody is at church, sleeping off the night before, or at Wal-Mart. As we drove down the highway, looking and thinking, we noticed that the restaurants were crowded. I guess everyone was giving mom the morning off.

There was one place that we had not been yet and wanted to see so we headed that way. The David Crockett State Park. Eric and I really like state and federal parks. They are one thing that I love for my tax dollars to go to. The park entrance is on the highway and it was on our way home. How convenient!

The park was SO BEAUTIFUL. 

We drove through it once to see what we could see. Shoal creek runs through the park. The covered bridge was picturesque (but I don't have any pictures of it.) There is a restaurant on the grounds that came highly recommended by the clerk at the Inn. It was busy on that Mother's day midmorn. I'm guessing brunch for mom. The camp sites bustled with activity. There was a beautiful lake with new cabins on the waterfront and a large dock from which a group of children was fishing. 

We saw several trails but didn't stop until we saw the one that said "waterfall". I'm a sucker for a waterfall. I had not planned on hiking, just shopping and being lazy. Thankfully, I had my Northface base camp ballet shoes. (No ankle support, but but much more comfortable for walking than a pair of flip flops.) So without knowing how long the trail was, with no map, provisions, or proper footwear, we set off. That's just the kind of hikers we are.

I did grab my bible though. I had felt God's presence closely the whole weekend with everything that we did. It was my turn to try and feebly return the blessings God had sent to us. So hand in hand, we set off down a hill. 

Eric says, "You know we have to climb back up, right?"

Such a sport. I smile and urge him on. 

The sun shown brightly, the birds were chirping, and I could hear the water in the distance. Pretty soon we saw this through the trees:

It was Shoal Creek, running along beside us. The further we walked the more the water roared. All of the sudden we left the veil of the trees for this:

And while I was admiring this, Eric said, "Come over here, Anna."

It was such a short walk. We didn't even have to work too hard for this!

Well, I just found a spot and made camp. As much of a camp that one can without anything but the clothes on their back, a bottle of water and a Bible. We sat there in the warmth of the sunshine with a gentle breeze caressing us. He was there, all around us beaming His love onto us.

I was so thankful for all that God had given us in these past hours. Now, He was showing out. He took us here to take our breath away. I know that there are more spectacular falls on the planet. I even realized after the first few minutes that some of this one was man-made. But it didn't matter. His glory shone so beautifully that morning, He could have made a dried-up ditch move me to be in awe of Him.

Ezekiel 43:2 says, "Suddenly, the glory of the God of Israel appeared from the east. The sound of his coming was like the roar of rushing waters, and the whole landscape shone with his glory." 

Psalm 19:1-4. 

"The heavens proclaim the glory of God.

    The skies display his craftsmanship.

² 

Day after day they continue to speak;

    night after night they make him known.

³ 

They speak without a sound or word;

    their voice is never heard.^[a]

⁴ 

Yet their message has gone throughout the earth,

    and their words to all the world."

If there was any way I could tell you all the things that have come into mine and Eric's lives in the last six months, you would be able to know the significance and blessing wrapped up in these moments sitting on a rock in a state park in Tennessee. 

It was a perfect end to our time ALONE (without children and grannies) in Lawrenceburg. We drove home "full up" with each other, and the Holy Spirit. I was ready to see my brood and check on Mama and Granny. So homeward bound, we went. 

We were renewed to face the coming week. Oh what a week it was! Did I mention I slid down a few feet of that waterfall trail on my backside on the way back to our car? It was God. He wanted to remind me, "You just go on holding My hand, Anna. You are going to need Me."

Weekend Trip to Lawrenceburg-Part 1

Well, while all of you were pampering your mothers for Mother's Day, I left my mama with my kids and my Gran and jaunted off on an overnight trip with my husband. We were gone a total of 28 hours but they were well spent and were just what we needed. We hadn't been away since after Christmas and with Granny here we don't get "alone" time very often. Mother graciously offered to come and stay at our house. Amelia and Dinah went to stay with and be spoiled by Papa. Ty and Tess stayed here at our house and got a break from helping out with the little ones. The arrangement worked out wonderfully.

We like to try and stay close to home when we get away so that we don't waste time just riding in a car and so we can get back quickly if needed. We thought we might get to stay in Pickwick but that didn't work out. So, we decided to go to Lawrenceburg, TN to check out the Amish scene. Sounds romantic, doesn't it? We had a wonderful time so don't rush to judgement.

Mom came over and spent the night on Friday night so that I could get good rest before we left out early the next morning. Eric and I went to Selmer that evening to go to their Wal-Mart and get groceries. We like to change up the routine a bit sometimes. :) On our way out of the store he wanted to look at the RedBox to see if they had a movie that Coach Daniel recommended. The box had it so we rented Parental Guidance with Bette Midler and Billy Crystal. It was really funny. I recommend.

The next morning we left out around 7:30 and began to mosey our way to Tennessee. We stopped in Savannah and had breakfast at The Toll House. It was our first time there and we enjoyed it. I would describe it as Savannah's version of Martha's Menu. The bacon was excellent and our waitress was attentive and nice without hovering too much.

With full stomach's we hit the road again with our eyes toward Lawrenceburg. Thankfully, we could listen to KLOVE almost all the way there. It's inspiring songs were the soundtrack for our countryside drive.

Before we got to Wayne county, I started seeing signs like Bigbie Ranch and Flat Gap Creek, Persimmon Lane. The fit the landscape perfectly as we passed grazing land with goats and long-horned cattle. When we weren't surrounded by rolling hills, we were flanked by beautiful layers of rock that had been blasted out years ago to make the road. It wasn't surprising to see the Wayne Co. Rock Company a ways down the highway where piles of different sized gravel and beautiful slate encircled their building.

17 miles outside of Lawrenceburg, we saw our first Amish buggy and team, traveling down the 4 lane. Even though there were no signs asking us to lower our speed, we had read online to make sure that we were watchful for the Amish travelers. The sides of the the highway had extra wide, shoulders. Buggy-wide shoulders, I believe.

The scenery changed and corn silos and wheat fields appeared. Then just before you enter Lawrenceburg, the highway narrows, becomes two lanes and curvy. David Crockett Elementary School welcomes you with a blue tin roof.

We went directly to the downtown area. We found it easily from the highway. After parking we walked to their square. The weather was beautiful, not too cool, not hot. In the center of the roundabout inside the square is a gazebo. As we walked, I heard fiddle music. We found out later that they were playing bluegrass music in the square every Saturday in the month of May. These men were just setting up for that. We antiqued all morning to the sounds of a bluegrass band. 

We headed toward Ethridge, TN to tour the Amish community around noon. We stopped at The Amish Mall to get a map of the farms and the goods they offered. We had read about that map when we researched the trip on the internet. The map is just a pencil drawing, but it helped us greatly. Each farmhouse is numbered and at the bottom of the map the numbers are listed with the products that each farm sells. 

Before we set out to the farms we did some more antique shopping and then we ate at Country Mill Restaurant. There was a buffet of country cooking at which you were served your choice of meat and vegetables. I got a barbecued chicken breast and Eric got country-fried steak. The food was delicious. They did bring me sweet tea instead of unsweet, and seemed too busy with the customer load to come by and check on that. Maybe if we hadn't been there when it was so busy the service would have been better. 

With full bellies, we set out on our Amish adventure. We drove slowly with our windows down, making the most of the experience by absorbing as much of the setting as we could. All of the Amish houses were white farmhouses. Some of the ones that we stopped at sold their wares from the porches but others had set up small sheds by the road. They sold things like furniture, tack, candy, baskets, hats, quilts, baked and canned goods, tomato stakes and small garden plants. We bought fresh bread, butter, peanut brittle, chow chow, "pool room" slaw (like a hot mustard slaw), small cedar sticks for my dresser drawers and closets, and small bead bracelets for the girls. 

Before we left we looked at several options for a hotel room. After some research online, I found out that the only places to stay in Lawrenceburg were motels. I haven't stayed in a motel since high school. I am not really thrilled about the doors facing the outside instead of inside a secure building. We said that if we didn't like the looks of things we could always drive to Florence that night and spend our Sunday there. After seeing Lawrenceburg, though, and scoping out the most recommended motel, we decided we wanted to stay there. We checked into the Richland Inn that afternoon and could not be more pleased with the room considering the price we paid for it. It was clean and had everything that we needed. It was quiet and I never felt unsafe.

After resting a bit, we hit the highway again to find a place to eat supper. We just drove until we saw a restaurant that looked like it might be good with a lot of cars in the parking lot. Those parameters took us to the Kuntry Kitchen.

 Ok, I've already revealed my snobbery with the motel experience, so I guess it won't surprise you that I also have preconceived notions about restaurants that use K's where C's should be (This one misspells the word entirely). Also, "fine dining" alongside a catfish with a top hat and cane don't seem to go together. We knew from the motel that my prejudices could be wrong so we gave it a try. We had the recommended catfish and it was mighty "fine". So, I guess they were right. Their other specialty was onion rings and I regret not having any. Maybe I'll make it back to Lawrenceburg to get some. 

The Crockett Theatre was right across the street from the Richland Inn. We saw that they were showing the movie Home Run. I had not heard what the movie was about except for it being a baseball movie that had a great message. The movie wasn't released in all theaters so we were glad for the opportunity to see it. It made me laugh and cry and think and feel. I encourage anyone who loves a good movie with a good message, to go see this movie. Here's the trailer:

It was a lovely ending to a beautiful day. 

I'll fill you in on our Sunday morning in another post.

(My favorite Antique stores were New Moon Antiques and Arts on the square in Lawrenceburg and Rusty Nail Trading Post in Ethridge, TN.)

The Pride of Lions (Humbly So)

Last night, we attended the Biggersville Elementary academic awards program and sixth grade promotion ceremony. My children make me blessed AGAIN this year. Ty had his awards program the other day during school. Granny wasn't well that day so I didn't get to go. He did really well also.  

   

But this post isn't to brag on my children. This post is to tell you about our wonderful school and the people who work there everyday to make it so. 

When I was in the 8th grade, I joined the students at Biggersville. I transferred after the school year had begun. My mom was a teacher there but I still didn't know many people. If you know anything about me, you know I was incredibly shy. I remember entering class that day, and all eyes turning toward the door and to me as I walked in. This shy girl didn't have to stay scared for long because I was immediately "embraced" by my classmates. 

It was different there than it was at my old school. On break, all of the students (7th-12th grade) intermingled in the hallway. It didn't seem to matter who was an upperclassman or who wasn't. No one cared what kind of jeans the other person wore. No one cared how much money your parents had. The students seemed to judge one another by who they were and not by their material possessions, what important relative you could claim, or even by the color of your skin. 

I graduated there, I worked there in the summers and I married a man who became a teacher there. As the years passed I became more and more vested in the school. 

After our children were born, I began to think about where they would go to school. We went to church in town, lived in town, and most of the children's friends would be going to Corinth. My younger sister and brother graduated there because my mom was a teacher there. I knew Corinth and the other county schools had better classrooms, better labs, better sports facilities and more arts programs. They offered a wider array of subjects to choose from beyond the basic, required curriculum. Several families that I knew who lived in Biggersville school district and were BHS alumni, chose to send there children to other schools. I became confused. I wasn't sure that Biggersville had enough to offer my gifted children.

When I complained about the science lab that was two times older than I was, when I complained about no drama program, when I complained about the fact that there was only one Spanish and no other language option, when I ranted about the fact that the school received nothing the other schools got, Eric reminded me that I went to school there and that I wasn't stupid as a result. He reminded me of the degrees held by many of the classmates I attended school with.

When it came time to send Ty to kindergarten, we had already decided that we wanted him to be with his daddy. All of the teachers seemed to already love my child. They were excited about him coming to be at school with them. I had heard nothing but kind words about Ms. Melanie and Ms. Janet. It was a good thing. 

As the years have gone by and 3 of our 4 living children have gone to school there, we have never regretted keeping them "home". They have been loved and nurtured. My children aren't limited here. They are challenged in ways they couldn't be elsewhere. They are building character. 

I love the fact that they see each other at school all day. With one class for every grade, they have shared teachers and the same 2 hallways for all these years. Ty is "across the road" now at the Jr./Sr. high school. He has some of the same teachers I had. Some of the teachers were my classmates. 

Recently, the Mississippi Department of Education announced that Biggersville High School had been awarded a Bronze Medal on the "Best High Schools Rankings". 

Read how U.S. News and World Report arrived at these results:

"A three-step process determined the Best High Schools. The first two steps ensured that the schools serve all of their students well, using performance on state proficiency tests as the benchmarks. For those schools that made it past the first two steps, a third step assessed the degree to which schools prepare students for college-level work."

(I am including the criteria for only the first two steps because the third step was inapplicable for Biggersville.)

• Step 1: The first step determined whether each school's students were performing better than statistically expected for the average student in the state. We started by looking at reading and math results for all students on each state's high school proficiency tests.

We then factored in the percentage of economically disadvantaged students (who tend to score lower) enrolled at the school to identify the schools that were performing better than statistical expectations.

• Step 2: For those schools that made it past this first step, the second step determined whether the school's least-advantaged students (black, Hispanic and low-income) were performing better than average for similar students in the state.

We compared each school's math and reading proficiency rates for disadvantaged students with the statewide results for these student groups and then selected schools that were performing better than this state average.

According to the report, 73% of Biggersville's total enrollment is "economically disadvantaged". Eric and I are in the other 27% there. I would describe us as "economically breaking even" as I am sure most of the other 27% would describe themselves as well. 

"The Poverty Factor" refers to Georgia public schools but Mississippi ranks higher than Georgia on the list of children living in poverty in the state at 32%.

The worst-performing public schools tend to be in the poorest zip codes, while most successful public schools are in more affluent zip codes. The dropout rate of students in low-income families is more than four times greater than the rate of students from higher-income families. In Georgia, economically disadvantaged kids are about four times more likely than their higher-income counterparts to score below standards on the almighty CRCT (Criterion-Referenced Competency Tests).

The report from U.S. News and World Report shows that Biggersville is bridging the gap. Being "economically disadvantaged" doesn't mean you will automatically be "academically disadvantaged". That is something to be really proud of. 

These results aren't because we have better classrooms. because we don't. These results aren't because we have better materials, because we don't. These results aren't because we have the best science labs, because we don't. 

These results come from community, hard work, and a WHOLE LOT of LOVE. 

To be a teacher anywhere and make a difference requires a lot of personal sacrifice. I know. I am from a family of teachers. I don't want to make less of teachers everywhere. But I suggest to you from the statistics from the report that the teachers at schools like Biggersville are going above and beyond the call of duty and that statistically speaking, MORE of their students have LESS. These teachers are doing MORE with LESS resources. This requires MORE of them to achieve these results; MORE SUPPORT, MORE TIME, MORE PATIENCE. They also get LESS thanks or at least thanks of a different kind. I would be surprised if an expensive piece of pottery or gift cards to nice restaurants land on their desks very often. (They might only get a long blog post dedicated to them from a sincere heart. Yes, a very different kind of thanks.)

These are just a few of the faces that make a difference in my kids every day. (These teachers were such stars we couldn't get to all of them to get our pictures made.) They do it everyday, month after month, and year after year. When I describe Biggersville to people who aren't from here, I always say, "It's like a small private school, except everyone gets to come." I often cry a little when I say it.  

Our children are to be taught at home, first and foremost. But often, the world around us wants to confuse what we have been taught at home. I saw what my parents taught me in action at this school. I pray my children see what we have taught them there as well. 

-You may not have what everyone else has but you have enough. Your achievement depends on your own personal work ethic and determination. 

-Everyone gets a chance to be your friend. You don't exclude them automatically because they aren't like you. 

-People are more important than things. Possessions do not define you.

-Always remember Whose you are and always strive to make Him proud.

-Rejoice in how far you go but never be ashamed of where you came from.

-You don't have to "go big, or go home". Being small or doing small things makes a big difference sometimes. 

-You can always come home. 

Kossuth and Corinth High schools were awarded the bronze medal as well. The percentage of economically disadvantaged at Kossuth High school was 50% and at Corinth High School, 52%. Biggersville does not offer AP or IB courses therefore were not scored on college readiness. And if you would like to argue with me about the difference in the resources of these schools and Biggersville's, I would love to accompany you on a tour of all three schools.

(Bronze medals: An additional 2,515 high schools that passed the first two steps in the methodology were awarded bronze medals and are listed alphabetically. A bronze medal school either does not offer any AP or IB courses, or its college readiness index was less than the median of 14.8 needed to be ranked silver.) 

What If God's Plan Is "Everyday"?

The theme for May at Mississippi Women Bloggers is "Women Who Inspire Us". My friend Megan ('Tis So Sweet) asked me to participate by submitting a guest blog. I'd had some thoughts in my head for a while and had not been able to get them to flow into my fingers yet. I believe God saved them for this topic. I hope you will read "The High Calling of an Everyday Life" over at Mississippi Women Bloggers.

This Far

Granny likes to sleep in. I mean really SLEEP IN. Left to getting up on her own, noon is the norm. I tried when she first came to our house to wake her in the morning and have her sit up as much as possible. She would lay down for a nap in the afternoon, then get up for supper, watch a movie and go back to bed. I thought that would be a great schedule. It wasn't.

Gran was up and down 10-20 times at night every other day or so. (I don't exaggerate.) She would then fall asleep soundly around 4 or 5 am and if left alone wouldn't move until the afternoon. After a few nights like that, I was sleeping until the afternoon as well.  

I needed a new strategy. My mom was on board with my schedule plans. She thought that was good for her too. But one day she said, "Annie, she's 85. Just let her sleep." So I did.

It is working. Unless she sleeps until 2 pm, I let her get up on her own. She doesn't nap and then she sleeps well at night. 

Whenever she gets up, she likes to have coffee and toast at the kitchen table. She eats, reads her daily devotional and reads the Daily Corinthian. If she gets up at lunchtime, I let her eat her breakfast and I eat my lunch. 

This morning she got up earlier than usual, so we had breakfast together. She at her place at the table and me at mine. (It's my new spot because when she came, she took mine. :) I don't mind.) This morning after we ate, we continued to sit at the table. I noticed something that made me smile. She read out of her big breakfast bible (she has used it for years just for her morning devotionals), her copy of a large print Guideposts, and the paper. I however, used the computer for my bible, my devotional, and my news. (I do keep a notebook and pen with me to write down things that I want to remember.) We sat there in companionable silence, sipping our coffee, meeting Jesus, checking in on the world around us and got ready for our day.

I began thinking about David. About the time in I Chronicles 17 (NLT) when Nathan told him all that God had showed him in a vision about David and his descendants.

⁷ “Now go and say to my servant David, ‘This is what the Lord of Heaven’s Armies has declared: I took you from tending sheep in the pasture and selected you to be the leader of my people Israel. ⁸ I have been with you wherever you have gone, and I have destroyed all your enemies before your eyes. Now I will make your name as famous as anyone who has ever lived on the earth! ⁹ And I will provide a homeland for my people Israel, planting them in a secure place where they will never be disturbed. Evil nations won’t oppress them as they’ve done in the past, ¹⁰ starting from the time I appointed judges to rule my people Israel. And I will defeat all your enemies.“‘Furthermore, I declare that the Lord will build a house for you—a dynasty of kings! ¹¹ For when you die and join your ancestors, I will raise up one of your descendants, one of your sons, and I will make his kingdom strong. ¹² He is the one who will build a house—a temple—for me. And I will secure his throne forever. ¹³ I will be his father, and he will be my son. I will never take my favor from him as I took it from the one who ruled before you. ¹⁴ I will confirm him as king over my house and my kingdom for all time, and his throne will be secure forever.’”

Then David prayed in verse 16:

“Who am I, O Lord God, and what is my family, that you have brought me this far?

It was in a Beth Moore's Bible study on David that first drew my attention to this verse. She settled on it for herself and her family and I felt the same way she did. Though neither of us have been given what David has been given (a dynastic line to Christ), we both feel humbly overwhelmed by God's blessing on our lives. 

As I sit at the kitchen table, I think about all the things that have happened in Granny's lifetime, my mother's and mine, that could have turned our family's face away from God. Hard, horrible things that came because of others bad choices or our own. Then I think of all we have been spared. All the things we haven't had to go through. And lastly, what a gift it is to be able to sit here and worship the King in a warm, snug, dry kitchen with full bellies and satisfied thirsts. I sit with a heart so full of gratitude for a lineage of believers on both sides of my family. I didn't have to go searching for the answers, I grew up with them being presented to me everyday by imperfect people, whom God had given much grace. 

And if you knew all I know you would know why it is that I also pray in awe this morning, "Who am I, O Lord God, and what is my family, that you have brought me this far?" Oh, thank you, Lord, for "THIS FAR".

"I remember the days of old. I ponder all your great works and think about what you have done. I will lift my hands to you in prayer. I thirst for you as parched land thirsts for rain."

Psalm 143:5-6 (NLT)                                  

  

God Grant Me Serenity Concerning the Weather

I don't know about anywhere else because I have only lived in Mississippi, but the weather is always a topic of conversation. There are a few occasions when the comments are complimentary to God's choice that day: "Oh! What a gorgeous day!" It's really nice out." "Praise God, we needed this rain." or "The snow is so beautiful." But sadly, I hear complaints more often than not.

Over the past weeks, the topic of the unusual spring we are having has arisen. As I have heard many talking about, newsing about, tweeting about, facebooking about the weather, this prayer came to my mind:

Serenity Prayer

God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change; 
courage to change the things I can; 
and wisdom to know the difference.

Living one day at a time; 
enjoying one moment at a time; 
accepting hardships as the pathway to peace; 
taking, as He did, this sinful world
as it is, not as I would have it; 
trusting that He will make all things right
if I surrender to His Will; 
that I may be reasonably happy in this life
and supremely happy with Him
forever in the next. 
Amen.

--Reinhold Niebuhr

I realize that this prayer is more often applied to subjects of far greater weight and import than the weather. But what if we applied it to the weather too?

Does complaining change the weather? No. 

Does God ordain the weather just as He does the other things in my daily life? Yes.

Are we wasting time worrying about something we can not change while we should be working on the things that we can? Yes. 

I've been watching Ken Burn's "The Dust Bowl" online. Now that was some weather to be concerned about. I think that those poor people would slap us across the face for complaining about 40 degree temps in May. 

If the weather bothers your sinuses or your arthritis, I see that you have some difficulty this time of year. I have those same problems. I am making a point in the future to take those pains to Him and not spread it across the World Wide Web before I do. 

Now, I'm going to post it again so we can read over the words one more time. I'm going to think about them and ask God to help me apply the words as He sees fit in my daily life.

Serenity Prayer

God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change; 
courage to change the things I can; 
and wisdom to know the difference.

Living one day at a time; 
enjoying one moment at a time; 
accepting hardships as the pathway to peace; 
taking, as He did, this sinful world
as it is, not as I would have it; 
trusting that He will make all things right
if I surrender to His Will; 
that I may be reasonably happy in this life
and supremely happy with Him
forever in the next. 
Amen.

--Reinhold Niebuhr

Love, Books, and Crochet Hooks

Granny has been doing amazingly well the past week or so. She seems to be less anxious, more clear, and relates more to all of us.

She is doing word search puzzles, she reads the newspaper everyday along with her devotional. She also reads books and magazines almost daily. She seems more engaged when watching her old movies. Even laughing out loud when appropriate. When Gran arrived here, word searches were out of the question. She showed little interest in reading and when she attempted to, she gave up quickly. So I am thankful that in these ways she is improving.

As long as I have known her, Granny has been an avid reader. A very frugal woman, she never seemed to mind buying the next Janette Oke book. Fortunately for me, her little library was always at my disposal. She never read anything that a young girl shouldn't read, so I could have my pick of it all. At first, The Grandma's Attic Series, The Mandie Books, and The Laura Ingalls Wilder Series. As I grew older, Janette Oke, Lori Wick, and Traci Peterson books. I read the covers off the Love Comes Softly Series (Janette Oke). I read a bit too much romance even if it was Christian romance, but it was better than most of what is out there for teens to read today.

She loved some Barbara Johnson (Stick a Geranium in Your Hat and Be Happy), Catherine Marshall books, and anything the Billy Graham society sent her. I didn't read these until after I was "grown up" and married. I may have to grow in to Barbara Johnson but I received a blessing from Catherine Marshall and her "Man Called Peter".

This list of books may seem light-weight to some. It wasn't until I was older that I was privy to the details of Gran's life. Her REAL LIFE was HEAVY-WEIGHT, so you'll excuse her for spending countless happy hours in good, clean, simple fiction and every edition (literally) of Chicken Soup for the Soul.

I was always amazed at her ability to work a crossword. I always struggled to fill in half of the empty boxes but she always worked until she was finished even if it meant filling in the last word the next day when the answers to the previous day's puzzle came. She could do amazing amounts of math in her head and would enlighten me with the Latin she learned as a child.

I learned to crochet literally and figuratively at her feet. Her lap was always warm in the winter time with the newest afghan she was making. She made pillows, baby blankets, and arm chair covers. If it sat still, she made a doily for it. The Christmas tree was covered in crocheted angels and reindeer made of clothes pins. She paper mache'd and painted the little plastic "stained glass" ornaments with us. She introduced us to "puff paint".

I write all of these in the past tense because she doesn't remember that she loved all these things. And that is okay. Because they were just things. What is important is the fondness I feel when I wander the craft aisle, the love that warms me when I cover myself with one of her afghans, the peace I feel when I read the words that once helped her triumph over hard times.

How blessed I am to share all those things with her.

Mighty Mamas

This morning reviewing all the tweets I missed while I was sleeping, I found this:







Lisa-Jo Baker put a huge part of my life into words.


And in light of my post from yesterday, you know that choosing to mother is a hard choice sometimes--choosing to mother the baby from your body or choosing to walk the long road to adoption. And whether it was a hard choice for you or not, you now know that it isn't easy, no matter how much you wanted it in the first place. Lately, I find myself repeating, "Anything worth doing isn't going to be easy." Mothering is worth it. My children and your children are worth it.

God bless you, Mighty Mamas. Press on.

Special shout out to my own dear Mama. I love you much.