LIFE ON LOAN

Today two things caught my eye that inspired me to blog about. First, the message at church was: Life on Loan: Writing God's Story. This is going to be a series at Cedar Creek for a few weeks. I was fascinated with the part:
What is your life?

• Loves
• Intersections
• Fortune
• Eternity

The message was how much our life is one on loan from God. The people we meet and interact may have an impact on the rest of their lives as well as ours.

Next, I was reading Stacey's blog. She talked today about how something she did empacted her students years later. This made me think of all the pictures I had taken of my students, year after year. I put them into albums and kept them...I still have some. This was such a small thing to do, but now I have those memories. Some of my former students still keep in touch with me. In fact, I check on Nikki's blog all the time. Yes, I have pictures of you, too, Nikki!

After teaching as many years as I have, the albums began to stack up. Then I came up with another idea. I started giving the pictures back to those students when they graduate. If I didn't know where they were, I would give them to one of the students and let them pass them out.

So, for you teachers out there just starting out, that is a good thing to start now. You will gain friendships that will help your intersections through the years. You will gain friendships with former first and second graders that will become life-long friends. The things you do today DO impact the world for a lifetime!

Sunday Message: Easter Egg Memories

Dear Friends and Family,
Today when I visited my friend, Sarah’s blog she had a poem about coloring Easter eggs with her two daughters. Along with the poem were several very clear pictures of the eggs. They were beautiful!
Those eggs reminded me of the ones my sister and I would make with our mother. We would start early on the Saturday before Easter. Mom believed in making our creations last, so we would make tiny holes on each end of the egg. By placing our mouths over one side we’d blow and blow and blow. We would then blow water through the egg to clean it out.
Now the fun began. We gathered lace, baby pearls, sequins and sparkles. Our egg die would be ready along with wax crayons. Each of us tried to out do the other with our creative ideas.
After letting them dry and settle in baskets with grass, we would plan the most important part of the day. That is when we would decide where to deliver them. Mom usually had the plan already in mind.
My favorite people to give them to were Alma Diehl and Grandma Hathaway. Alma went to our church and was a very active member. However, at this time of her life she was bed-ridden and very sick. She appreciated our visit even more than the egg basket. Grandma Hathaway lived about her son’s office. She wasn’t our grandma---she was our doctor’s mother. Still going up those stairs and hearing her coo-coo clock made the trip worth it. She always gave us cookies to take home, too.
So, when Sarah said she and her girls were making memories, she probably had no idea just how long those memories may last. To me it wasn’t just the lovely eggs…it was the gift of sharing our mother taught us.
Happy Easter to one and all!

Family Memories

Memorial Day. I know it is Monday. I know it used to be called Decoration Day. I know it was started to remember the war heroes. When I was young my parents used to load my sister and I up in the car with cans of flowers, buckets, and shovels and we would take off for the cemeteries around the neighboring counties. We thought it great fun. Our parents would busily put the cans of flowers beside the graves, digging down to set the cans into the dirt. We would play around the tombstones and rest beneath the trees. I think we knew this was a serious occasion, but it was still a time of adventure for us.
Now it is my turn to decorate the graves. The graves of those who took us around to those cemeteries so long ago. Today as my husband and I drove to my grandparents' graves we discussed the appearance of the big heavy cement urns on each side of the stone. Each year we vow we will repair the cracks and patch the spots that have fallen off. Each year we never do. This year as we pulled up close to the site we knew it was too late. One of the pots was hopelessly cracked and falling apart. I was sick.
My gallant husband saved the day however. He said, "Let's go find some to replace these." I thought the task too overwhelming. I would have spent days hunting just the right size and type. But, no, we were set on finding them and finding them TODAY!
Home Depot was our salvation. We found two pots that were not cement, but looked it. They were the same size and rather classy looking if grave pots can be classy. We lugged them to the cemetery. Dug out the old ones. Carried them to the car and replaced them with the new. I carefully and lovingly placed all the artificial flowers and greenery into those two pots.
As I drove away, I felt that my parents would have been proud and happy to see that I really am carrying on the tradition. I am sure years ago they wondered if anyone would. Since my sister lives many, many miles away, it is my responsibility to do this act of love and honor.
As you get ready to celebrate the three-day holiday, be sure to spend some time thinking of the traditions you shared with your family and those who have gone ahead. May you have a blessed Memorial Day!