Monthly Archives: November 2010

Is it me or…

I’ve been trying to figure out what it is that’s soooooo different about this year. What I’m doing or not doing that has the magic excitement kind of sort of not always but pretty often sparkly awesomeness of the newsroom missing.
Part of the problem is a bunch of new kids.
I’ve worked with staffs filled with new kids and never had this resistance.
that’s not it.
One thing I think I’ve found is we have these new computers. Got them last year. The editors work on the new computers. The new computers are by my desk. SOOOOOOO the editors are all working right next to me, which is cool if we’re working on proofs or that kind of thing. But generally, that’s after school work. During school all the experienced kids are sitting near my area clustered together instead of spread through the room.
I have no idea if that’s the problem, but it sure kind of feels like it may be.
I’m losing abut half the kids at semester.
And really, that’s not a bad thing. Kids think YB and NP are going to be “fun”, “easy As”, “free ball games”, “breakfast clubs.” When they have all this work that’s due by a specific day and time, much of which must be done outside of class, they freak out.
Often by December, the freak out is over. This year, not so much.
And I’m OK with that. I have to be. But I’m going to work hard to make the rest of the year a more positive experience for all of us!
Today for Motivation Monday I shared a story with the kids from The Success Principles about Dream Stealers.
I’m lucky because my entire life my family has been all about encouraging the dream instead of stealing it. My teachers have also encouraged me. In college, my profs heaped praise on my dream of writing.
I’ve never had a dream stealer in my life. I need to make sure I don’t become someone’s dream stealer.

So that was a nice break

I don’t know about you, but Thanksgiving Break gets me to the end of the year. And this one REALLY did because I listened to The Success Principles and The Secret and got my head back where it needs to be. You know, attitude is the secret. And trust that God’s in control and trusting that He has you where He wants you. And belief in yourself.
I don’t think I’ve been in as low a place for as long as I was there in years, maybe not since I was a single mom with a beautiful baby girl trying to figure out how to get my life back on track.
The answer then was the same as now: believe that God is in control and be the best you you can be.
So here’s to that belief. It’s a little early for resolutions, but I’m claiming one anyway.
I’m me. I like me. I love my job. I love my family. I love my church and my God and I love writing. God’s got this and He’s got me if I just let Him be in control.
Happy Thanksgiving one last time. Here’s to a great ending to an event-filled first semester.

PS: DH and I are starting the Experiencing God bible study. If you’ve done it, tell me what you think. The new college minister leader wants all the leadership team to do the study. We’re looking forward to it.

Martha gets a bad rap

Now as they went on their way, he entered a certain village, where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. She had a sister named Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to what he was saying. But Martha was distracted by her many tasks; so she came to him and asked, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her then to help me.” But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her” (Luke 10:38-42).

It’s that time of year where I really think about Martha and Mary and this story that really drives me crazy.
I can’t seem to get out of Martha’s brain.
Here she is with the biggest star of their generation in their home, (Please don’t think I’m being sacrilegious. Jesus was famous. He was the son of God. Have you met some of our most charismatic ministers? They are super stars. And they’re nothing compared to Jesus.) the oldest, expected to cook, clean and entertain.
Only she’s not alone. Her younger sister should be helping, but she’s not. Why? Because she’s in the front room with the men talking to Jesus.
And then when she finally complains, she’s rebuked for caring about the things of lesser importance like cooking and cleaning and entertaining.
Which is all fine and good if you’re Jesus or one of the guys sitting up front who never has to worry about that since the women take care of it all the time.
I know what I feel like when someone stops by my house and it’s a disaster and I don’t really have the necessary items to be a good hostess.
I’m embarrassed. I know, I know. That’s on me. But it’s not really. When was the last time you went to someone’s house and it was a mess and you didn’t judge? Even for a second? Even if you only judge for a second and then tell yourself your place is an even bigger mess.
I’d love the see the Mary and Martha story written from a woman’s perspective. Maybe even Martha’s.
Because those guys writing it didn’t have a clue what it’s like to be the woman responsible for home and hearth. They never had to have a clue because people like Martha took care of business.
Maybe the answer there was for Martha to go up front and talk to Jesus too, and let one of the guys take over the cooking and cleaning and entertaining.

Never Alone

Stated my conference period off listening to Barlow Girl’s Never Alone. I’d completely forgotten about this song, but it was exactly what I needed to hear!
Writing about the healing power of forgiveness is rewarding and emotional. I don’t know if I’ll “win” NaNo. It will really depend on how much I get to write over the holiday. But I do know I’m learning a lot about myself while writing Letting Go.

30 minutes and I’m giving up

after 30 minutes of writing total drivel, I’m stopping for the night. I’m cold and sleepy and I feel kinda crappy. I know those are all sorry excuses for a piddly 30 minute attempt at writing, but I’m going to claim them. ‘Night.


that’s my count today after 12 hours working the day job. I could keep writing, but I think I’ll call it a night and go spend some quality time with DH who, I think, disliked my writing time tonight more because he wanted to keep playing FTP and less because he wanted to spend time with me. 🙂

NaNo unfail

well, getting started on the book again, actually sitting down and writing, going to room with only my music and no other distractions, made a huge difference! I wrote a little over 4200 words. Big scene today. That helped. And added conflict. And upped the stakes. And increased the emotion. And called the heroine’s faith into question.
I really liked what I wrote today. (hope I still do later!)

I’m still significantly behind on word count –hello, didn’t write on the book for a week–but I’m closer to finishing now.

Motivation Monday tomorrow. Woo Hoo!

3 posts today on the blog. That’s a little excessive. But I wanted to update after my fail post this morning.

Don’t forget

first published on my blog Jan. 2008

She sat in the giant burnt orange chair that dwarfed her slight frame, legs crossed, a cup of watery vending machine hot chocolate in her hand, playing with the silver hoop earring hanging from her left ear.
Every time I walked into the liberal arts lounge in that hour between English and French, I looked forward to seeing this stylish friend. A girl who was everything I wasn’t, but still accepted me for who I was.
We shared stories daily. Hopes and dreams and broken hearts and Sting and Rush and Yes and Robert Plant, Jimmy Page and the London Philharmonic Orchestra, and, please God, one day, The Rolling Stones.
She’d married young. Found the love of her life. Laughed at people who tried to bring up the statistics.
Once when a stranger walked into “our” lounge and expressed outrage at the homeless daring to waste their time below the main bridge in town with hand painted signs promising to work for food, she told the story of purposefully stopping at the McDonald’s across the street from the bridge and buying food for those same homeless. The stranger quickly left, rolling his eyes and, I’m sure, muttering something along the lines of “bleeding heart liberals,” as the door closed behind him.
Of course the stranger didn’t know her truth. Didn’t know the story she’d shared with me that still haunts me every time I drive by that bridge and see the men and women with their backpacks and sleeping bags and signs on cardboard.
Like my father, and most of the fathers of that time, hers had gone to war in Vietnam. He’d returned to the praise and joy and relief of his family. One wife. Three children. A veteran of a war that might not have been popular nationally but qualified him as hero material in our town.
And then, one day, he sat across the table from her mother and quietly but firmly told her to gather the children and leave.
When she tried to argue, to make sense of his words, he said it again. And this time added, take them and leave or I’m going to kill you all.
She left but called the police. When the police got to the house, my friend’s father was gone.
He lived under that bridge. And in the mission. And in empty houses that served as homes for transients just passing through.
He never talked to his family again, no matter how often they tried to connect.
He was as lost to them as if he’d never returned from the war.
My friend considered him the ultimate hero. I tended to agree with her.
When his obituary appeared in the paper a couple years ago, his family members were listed as survivors. They’d lost him years before, but I know that physical death had to hurt.
Temperatures are supposed to drop into the 20s and 30s around here tomorrow. Last year, a homeless woman froze to death in a port-a-potty across the street from one of our hospitals. While the Mission might be open, there will be plenty of men and women living under that bridge.
Every one of them has a story. I hope I don’t ever forget that.


I’m going to church in a couple minutes, but I wanted to post a NANO update. Total failure. It started when I spent 20 hours on the Rider faculty history video and then went to the banquet and then was sick the next day from stress (dumb me!). And then I just didn’t write for four days. So today, I’m picking back up. BUt first my new favorite quote from Karen Kelley: “don’t let anyone steal your happy!”
AND the tour video if you’d like to see it:

And the day I didn’t make goal…..

I spent about 18 hours working on a video project I LOVE.
I’ll share it tomorrow after it’s shown at the faculty banquet.
I ❤ Rider High School.