I Got The Best....

The year was 1966. I was just a 12 year old young adolescent entering 7th grade. Oh how exciting to be in Jr. High.

The first day of school we were assigned our homeroom teachers. I was given the gift of Mr. Schroer. Here are some memories I have from his homeroom class.

Current Events: We each had to take a turn getting in front of the class each quarter and give the latest news. There was no internet. No TV in Homer yet, and so we would go down to the only drug store in town, Homer Rexall, and buy the daily newspaper that was flown in from Anchorage. We wrote our news articles usually on 3x5 cards and stood in front of the class with our knees a knocking. 

Map Tests: We each had to know the names of the 50 states and their capitals, and each country of the world and their capitals.  The tests were given each quarter. If you got 100% the first quarter you didn't have to take the test again till the end of the year.

When he would give a test, sometimes the last question would be, how old do you think I am?  I remember once that my answer was 68 :(  I think he was 39.

Little Britches:  Every Friday Mr. Schroer would read to us. The book I remember the most is "Little Britches". We sat quietly in our wooden desks and listened as he read to us. My most vivid memory is when the young boy's father dies in the book. Mr. Schroer choked up and I know many of us had tears in our eyes too.

You see, Mr. Schroer made a lasting impression upon this young girl. He was strict. The strictess teacher in the school and you didn't play around in his classroom. He demanded respect and we gave it. He gave me such a love for history, because he loved history. We learned so much in his class.

Today I had the honor and priviledge to attend the ceremony that inducted him into the High School Hall of fame for his outstanding leadership as a coach and his contribution to Homer High. As I sat in the audience a flood of memories washed over me, as I again was that young adolesent so eager to be in Jr. High and so thankful that I was assigned to Mr. Schroer's homeroom. I got the best!

Trusting In His Grace

Three of my grandchildren are tucked quietly downstairs in our nice comfy queen size bed. Laundry is going and I have a few minutes to write what has been so deeply on my heart today.

As each passing year goes by, the pain and effects of divorce they experienced are still raw in this grandmother's heart.  They are such wonderful, well behaved, precious ones and yet I know they will have a lot to process in the years ahead. They will be strong I know, because they have a mother who is loving, strong and wonderful, and cries out to Jesus herself.

I am thinking back to my own childhood and the trauma that the divorce of my parents left on me. I walked through two divorces with my parents.  It is deeply felt and through the years I have had to forgive, and find the Lord's grace to walk me through the pain and complications of it all.

Divorce is ugly. Divorce is painful. Divorce is wounding.  It seems like in today's world, it is easy to throw away a marriage and find someone better or new or prettier or thinner or younger.....  I am in no way judging anyone. I am stating a fact. Divorce sucks no matter what the reason.  The ramifications of that choice bring ripple waves of damaging effects to all lives involved, like the aftermath of a tornado.

I know as my grandchildren grow and understand life more, that they will find the Lord's grace, just as I have, to forgive, and find healing for their hearts and souls. But I still weep for them.  I don't want my grandchildren to hurt.  I want to protect them. Yet, I recognize it is when we are hurting that we cry out to the Lord and He meets us as only He can. I know the Lord will be faithful to each of them, as He has been to me.

So I will rest in that as I lay my head on my pillow tonight full of prayers on their behalf.

Oh how I love them.....

The Choice Is Always Ours.....

I knew she saw me. And as I glanced her way and I caught her eye, her whole body language shouted out that she would prefer not to talk to me.

I had a choice to make in that moment. I could just go about what I was busy doing, or I could go over to her table and acknowledge her and be kind.   I choose the later. It was awkward but it was right. I knew it was what the Lord was asking of me.

I didn't even know until a few weeks ago that she had been offended by someone I love dearly. Even though the offense was a misunderstanding and not at all what she thought was portrayed.  She choose to still believe a lie and choose to live with an offense that wasn't there.

Years ago, a special older lady from Oregon, taught me a very valuable lesson. I was visiting her in her home and she shared that she had some people over the night before and one of the people visiting made a negative comment about her home. She told me, at the moment she choose not to be offended and let it go.

I've never forgotten those wise words from a very wise woman.

I know in my journey of life, that I too, have many times chosen to take up an offense. Sometimes the offense is real. Sometimes it was never meant to be an offense and was a misunderstanding, and I choose to take it up and simmer.  Either way, the Lord wants to bring healing to relationships. The choice is mine. The choice is yours.

We are all in process. We wound, we hurt and we offend in this journey of life.

In those offenses that need attention and confronting, yes, Scripture teaches us to go to one another.  To seek forgiveness and to forgive. In those misunderstandings that were never intended to be offenses, talk them out and go on too. Life is too short to hold on to things that were never meant to be negative.

We always have the choice on how we will respond.