I don't understand

Today as I sat in my office, the Health Room of an elementary school, I learned of yet another incomprehensible tragedy at another elementary school.  I watched the live feed on my computer, saw the sound bites with a little girl who was in the school when the shooting took place and the gut wrenching pictures of families trying to get information about their children, their babies, and I fought back both tears and the urge to vomit.  I turned the live feed off and did the only thing I could think of, I prayed.  This is a season filled with childhood wonder and joy as children everywhere anticipate Christmas and Santa and even Christmas vacation and this day, today, will forever change their thoughts and memories surrounding this very special time of year.  Their childhood innocence has been forever altered.

I spoke to both my children via live chat and realized I just needed to know they were OK and  to tell them that I love them.  I called my husband to see if he had been watching the events unfold on the television but I really just wanted to hear his voice, to see if he understood, if he could explain, all the time knowing there is no explanation that begins to make sense.  I prayed some more.

I talked to my friends, the teachers that I work with, looking into their eyes as they struggled to understand, knowing they were probably having some of the same thoughts I was having; we work in an elementary school, this is crazy, could this happen here, what do we say to the children next week when they return to school.  We had no answers.  It was unusually quiet in the front office as we left school.  What do we say...

So I sit at my computer and try to make sense of something that will never make sense.  How can a person walk into an elementary school with a gun which looks as if it should only be used by the military or police and take aim at innocent children, innocent adults?  How does that ever make sense in their head?  What did these babies do to cause them so much pain and anger?  In the end the shooter killed himself and saved the taxpayers a lot of money in legal fees but if in the end he was going to kill himself why didn't he just do that in a place where he is the only one who will die?

I will continue my prayers for the families of the children and adults who died today and for all of us who have been affected by this tragedy.  I will pray that those who make gun laws will finally realize things need to change and while I support the right to be a gun owner I recognize there are guns we should not be allowed to own, and I will pray for the family of the shooter who now carry the burden of his actions.

Tonight I pray for God's grace, peace and love.

A Prayer

The tragic, unthinkable, incomprehensible act of a gunman in Colorado descended upon us all once again and I find myself struggling to understand; I don't.  How can anyone understand such an event?  As I listened to the news reports and the viewed the images in the media I became fixated on the outpouring of grief.  I heard about the unselfish love of at least 5 men who placed their bodies on top of their girlfriends and in so doing died while saving them.  I saw pictures of the father begging for news about his son who was later found dead; dying on his birthday, and I saw the picture of a beautiful six year old little girl whose life ended in that theater before it really had a chance to begin.  I fought back tears.  That little girl smiling, eating an ice cream cone stays with me.  I realized each of those victims regardless of their age was somebody's child, a priceless, irreplaceable gift from God.  

Sometime ago I came across a prayer written by Ina J. Hughes entitled, "We Pray for Children".  I printed that prayer and have it in my office at school.  I can't think of a more appropriate prayer for a day like today so I am sharing it here.

We pray for children

who sneak popsicles before supper,

who erase holes in math workbooks,

who can never find their shoes. 

And we pray, for those

who stare at photographers from behind barbed wire,

who can't bound down the street in a new pair of sneakers,

who never "counted potatoes,"

who are born in places where we wouldn't be caught dead,

who never go to the circus,

who live in an X-rated world. 

We pray for children

who bring us sticky kisses and fistfuls of dandelions,

Who sleep with the cat and bury goldfish,

Who hug us in a hurry and forget their lunch money,

Who squeeze toothpaste all over the sink,

Who slurp their soup.

And we pray for those

who never get dessert,

who have no safe blanket to drag behind them,

who watch their parents watch them die,

who can't find any bread to steal,

who don't have any rooms to clean up,

whose pictures aren't on anybody's dresser,

whose monsters are real. 

We pray for children

who spend all their allowance before Tuesday,

who throw tantrums in the grocery store and pick at their food,

who like ghost stories,

who shove dirty clothes under the bed,

and never rinse out the tub,

who get visits from the tooth fairy,

who don't like to be kissed in front of the carpool,

who squirm in church or temple and scream in the phone,

whose tears we sometimes laugh at

and whose smiles can make us cry. 

And we pray for those

whose nightmares come in the daytime,

who will eat anything,

who have never seen a dentist,

who aren't spoiled by anybody,

who go to bed hungry and cry themselves to sleep,

who live and move, but have no being. 

We pray for children

who want to be carried

and for those who must,

for those we never give up on

and for those who don't get a second chance.

For those we smother…

and for those who will grab the hand of anybody

kind enough to offer it. 

We pray for children. Amen

 

Today my prayers will include ALL of the children who died in Colorado and will include the child who was the shooter and his family.

Finding happiness

I noticed it out of the corner of my eye as I walked past the front door.  It was just sitting there looking so ordinary on my porch; just a large cardboard box.  It had a plain address label which was addressed to me and a bright orange sticker which read "Fragile!  Handle with care"  The UPS man must have placed it there like he does with so many other packages only this time I didn't hear the doorbell ring.  I unlocked the door and wrangled the large awkward box into the foyer and carefully looked at the other markings on the box, totally forgetting about an online order I had placed  about two weeks ago.  There on the side of the box was a label that said, "Respironics."  Respironics is a company that manufactures CPAP machines and CPAP supplies which are used by people with sleep apnea. I had a moment of panic as I hurried to the kitchen to get a knife to open the box.  Sometime in May I had placed an order for 2 soft CPAP caps for Jay.  The order had never come but our credit card  had not been charged so I didn't give it another thought.  Jay and I had talked about the order for the caps and he assured me he had a backup cap and was fine with the apparent outcome of my order.  I forgot about that order until "Respironics" was staring at me in bold black ink from the side of a very large box. Oh my gosh!  That order must be here and it surely was messed up because 2 soft caps would most certainly fit in an 8 1/2" x 11" padded envelope without difficulty.  How many caps did I get and what was it going to take to get this all straightened out.  Panicked I tore into the box!  Packing peanuts in multiple colors came spilling out of the box.  I remember thinking, "who needs to pack peanuts around fabric caps?"  I dug though the peanuts only to encounter blocks of foam padding, lots and lots of foam.  My concern and panic was increasing.  What did I mistakenly order and what is it going to take to get this mess straightened out?  Then I saw it and I began smiling, grinning, laughing as total joy came exploding out of that large ordinary cardboard box!  You see that order I had forgotten about was for items I had seen on E Bay after discovering another cardboard box of memories and precious toys had been lost, mistakenly donated to Goodwill.  I had won an auction and this was my winnings.  There under my fingers was a Fisher Price A Frame house, not my house but another perfect house.  The tears came again but this time they for happiness found inside an ordinary box at my front door.

Bring on the food challenge!

I have a blogger friend, Mimi, who writes about Weight Watchers in the 1970's.  She loves the era and frequently shares recipes from the WW program in the '70's complete with her taste evaluation.  She is brave, very brave!

If you, like me, did the Weight Watchers program in the '70's you may remember the FIVE fish meals per week as well as the MANDATORY liver meal weekly.  The were no free fruits and vegetables and no skim milk!  Ketchup you could have if you made it yourself.  Wow!  What great changes the program has made.

Mimi issued a challenge to her blog followers a month or so ago.  She asked who would be willing to cook up a recipe from the 1970's Weight Watchers program and blog about it.  I volunteered (and prayed)!  Here is the link to read my recipe challenge: Pink Fluff Salad as well as the other brave bloggers participating in Mimi's virtual potluck:

                                                         


 CLICK HERE:   Pink Fluff Salad 

If you visit her blog, let her know in the comment section, I invited you!  Remember your manners  :)

Just a box of toys

This past week has been one full of anticipation and excitement for me as we prepared to welcome our daughter, son in law, and granddaughter who would be visiting from New York for several days.  Erika is now 9 months old and with her living so far away we have missed so many changes as well as quality cuddle time with her.  I am excited, we are excited!!  Saturday could not arrive quickly enough.

On Thursday I asked my husband to bring down the box of toys we had stored away for "someday".  He looked carefully in the storage space that flanks either side of our bonus room and found nothing that resembled a box large enough to contain those saved toys.  He came down and told me they weren't there.  I returned to the bonus room with him to conduct another search knowing he had missed them, praying he had missed them.  The box contained special toys tucked away for grandchildren someday.  There was the Fisher Price A-Frame house picked up a garage sale by my mother when Megan was little.  There was the Fisher Price rolling ball with the carousel animals that rocked and chimed as it was played with.  There was the Tudor style Fisher Price House, the school bus containing all of the wooden little people,  the garage and cars with the lift that moved up and down when the crank was turned and there was the barn and silo with all of the animals.  There were other toys and lots of wooden little people and there were countless memories of times our children played with those toys. They were tucked safely away years ago to wait until we needed them.  We wanted to share those toys with our grandchildren.  Some of those toys packed away so long ago would be great for Erika to play with now and so I had to search again.  They had to be there!  Jay surely was wrong.  We searched and as he said, no box of toys.  Maybe they were in the attic.  I held my breath and we looked but again came up empty.  Jay commented more than once that I looked upset and I was.  Part of something special was gone and I had no words adequate enough to explain how I was feeling and then the tears came, streaming down my face and dropping silently onto my shirt.  Jay didn't know what to say.  He tried to comfort me but I was lost.  Perhaps I could replace a few of the toys, and yes, they would be similar but they would not be the same as the toys I knew now were mistakenly donated to Goodwill when we cleaned out the storage areas several years ago.  It was no one's fault, it was simply a terrible accident.

I called Megan and told her about her A-Frame House and all of the other toys that were gone and she understood my sadness and disappointment.  I played on EBay as we talked only to discover they had several Fisher Price A-Frame house on their listings.  Somehow that fact made both of us feel better.

Megan, Judson, and Erika arrived on Saturday and there were toys for her to play with and she was happy but a part of me still watches her and feels my heartstrings tug when I think about what we lost.  It was not just a box of toys!

Eating My Way to Happiness

For as long as I can remember I have had a love hate relationship with food.  It has been the best way to celebrate the good times, the accomplishments, the goals met.  It has relieved my stress and renewed my strength after an anatomy and physiology final among other exams on my way to becoming a nurse.  Food has been my source of comfort when I was feeling sad or lonely, bored, angry, frustrated...  I love food!  I love eating!  Food has been my drug of choice.  Food IS my drug of choice.

I guess I am fortunate to have chosen food over alcohol or drugs but it is no less a problem for me.  I have buried my feelings by eating, in excess, often finding myself at the bottom of a half gallon of ice cream with no idea of how I got there or even what the flavor of the ice cream was.  I have baked chocolate chip cookies and instead of eating one or two I have looked at the cooling rack to find six or eight of the cookies gone. Did I even taste them? I have bought a pound of M&Ms at the convenience store often commenting to the cashier that I needed them for a recipe (God forbid he think I was going to eat them) only to go home, open them and eat the entire bag in one sitting hiding the empty wrapper in the trash to deny it ever happened but I would still be hungry.  Was I hungry?  Why do I continue eating like this?  What am I hungry for?

Figuring out the difference between physical and emotional hunger has been a battle.  I do better some days than others but I am still learning.  I often hear the same comments in the Weight Watchers group I lead and I can truly answer, "I understand!".  For those of us who try to eat our way to happiness there are no easy answers, no quick fixes, no magic words to make it stop.  I have lost almost 200 pounds and there are days when I still battle.  I win more or those battles than I used to but I still find myself on occasion with a bag of M&Ms or a spoon and a carton of ice cream.  I have learned to move forward from those times and forgive myself.  I am a work in progress.  :)

I follow a blog called, "Thighs and Offerings" which is written by a minister named Kate who by her own admission had a serious eating disorder.  She wrote about her battle with emotional eating in a post several years ago.  Here in her words is a description of her battle with pumpkin scones:

  "A pumpkin scone has been far more to me than an acquaintance, and far less than a friend. Truth be told, the role it has played in my life has been that of, I don't know, a lover, an ex-boyfriend you can't quite shake, who you keep seeing and who you keep letting in and who keeps breaking your heart." 

So what is the solution?  What do I do?  I have learned to ask myself two questions BEFORE I put anything in my mouth: Are you hungry and what are you hungry for?  If my answer is anything other than physical hunger I get out of the kitchen, out of the house and far away from any place that sells M&Ms!

Happiness is NOT found at the bottom of a container of ice cream or inside a package of M&Ms.  Happiness is found by loving yourself and knowing you are worthy of the effort you are making to take care of yourself and lose the weight you want to lose.

To those of you who read my blog and fight this battle Kate and I understand! 

Father's Day without my Dad

I said goodbye to my dad almost two years ago.  He had fought a very long battle against congestive heart failure and irreversible heart disease, it was time to go.  I was blessed to be with him during his final hours.  

My dad was an amazing man!  He was a child of God, a Presbyterian preacher, a husband, a father to four, a grandfather to eight and a great grandfather to one.  He was my role model and my friend and I miss him!  He lived a life full of love and service.  I have no doubts about where he is or what he is doing.  As he lay dying a wrote a blog which was called things my dad taught me.  I read it to him before he died and we cried.  He asked me to read it at his memorial service, which I did, and I fought the tears but proudly read it and I got through it.  I can think of no better thing to share for Father's Day so here it is again; lessons from my dad, life lessons.  Happy Father's Day Dad!  I love you!

Here, in no particular order, are just a few of the things my dad has taught me:


If you want to catch fish, you have to use worms and you have to bait your own hook.


When cooking, always clean up as you go.


When playing Boggle, making up words is allowed as long as you snicker while you write them down.  If you are lucky one of them will be a real word.


It is OK to eat your Nana's cream puffs for breakfast.


Patience is a virtue especially when teaching teenagers to drive or when taking  them to pick out a Christmas tree.


God is good all the time.


Say you're sorry and mean it.


Let go of wrongs.


Forgive and forget. (Yes I know those were similar but they were worth repeating)


Love unconditionally.


God always answers prayers but not always the way we expect.


Always do your best.


Never put off saying I love you.


Treat others the way you would like to be treated, especially when it is difficult.


Even grown men like to play with tractors.


When faced with a broken bike, it is a good idea to take it to a bike shop for repairs.

Pay attention to the details.


Dog names are reusable.


If you can't say something nice, be quiet.


Good people come in all shapes, colors, and sizes.


Doing the right thing may not be easy, and no one may notice, but do it anyway.


And finally the one that seems most appropriate on a day like today:


At the end of even the worst day there is always something to be grateful for.


Thank you God for this gracious and loving man you chose to be my father.  

- I tried unsuccesfully to get my dad's favorite hymn to play in the background.  He loved Fairest Lord Jesus which is a beautiful hymn.  I know itunes and youtube have a version you can listen to if you are unfamiliar with it.  Enjoy and be grateful!