A Summer’s evening at the Neighborhood School Ball Park.
Baseball is summer’s game. We didn’t have a TV most of my growing up years, but the radio was tuned in to St. Louis Cardinal’s games as the sun went down on summer nights. The cracking sound of the bat hitting the ball and the crowds going wild, along with the rev-the-crowd organ music drifted through the open windows mingling with the sounds of playmates and I chasing fireflies and whirling hoola-hoops around our waists. The screen door slammed, as in and out we’d go and beer commercials would ring out between innings.
Tools of the trade.
We don’t do it enough, but now and again, Rocky will get a group of us together to run up the street and play softball at the elementary school. And each time we say, “We have to do this again soon,” because even my grown children, now, have become nostalgic as they remember the years they played ball all day every day with the neightborhood kids.
Uncle Rocky pitching to Gav-at-bat. The cheering crowds. DP up to bat.
When I feel the morning grass I let down my guard
Because love comes from the dirt in my own backyard
Everytime I think I’ve finished being young
I catch myself having fun
My husband, Dave, up to bat.
Recently, on one of those lovely evenings that make you wish summer could last forever, Rock got us all together, the fam and some good friends. There is just nothing like some bats, a good, broken-in leather glove and bases to run around. Good times!
Pepler. Guini and Nonna (me). Gavin hits it!
But the moment passes as the sun moves on
So I turn myself back to you…
And it’s depressing that I can’t forget the tune the organist played
La – da da da da da da, la – da da da da da da…
Dave at bat. The boys taking a breather.
Everytime I think I’ve finished being young
I catch myself having fun
But the moment passes as the sun moves on
So I turn myself back to you
Is our season over? No four leaf clover?
The boys of summer: just coming down “Front Street,” as DP likes to say. Shirt by Stormie
Hunter and Gavin will climb anything. Tristan swinging the pipe…as a lefty!
I feel it’s getting colder…
But can you still remember?
April to November
You and I were members
Of the best team in baseball
So we play our games…
“Teaching is the sowing of life-giving, mind-expanding seed. May you reap fully from what you have sown.” -a note to to Mary Bolton Passwater, a young woman who used to be in the JoyBelles club I led in Kokomo and has turned into a wonderful, beautiful, godly young woman (wife and mommy) who teaches – a most noble life and profession!
Teachers teach us so much. Maybe not always what the lesson plan was about. But they do impart things. Back-to-school time always makes me think of the teachers I had while I was growing up.
Those schoolgirl days, of telling tales and biting nails are gone,
But in my mind,
I know they will still live on and on,
Five Star Rating System for 6 who stood out ~ Mrs. Fuchs, Mrs. Weiland, Miss Petrie, Mrs. S—-, and Mr. McGarry
1
***Kindergarten ~ Mrs Fuchs (pronounced f-o-x, thank-you very much): She was a very fashionable, perfectly-coiffed 1960s woman with unnaturally blazing-fire red hair – which I spent a good 12 years constantly trying to replicate and still have great zeal for (especially when I see it on my beautiful Stephanie!).
But how do you thank someone, who has taken you from crayons to perfume?
It isn’t easy, but I’ll try,
Me…1st day of Kindergarten; then second grade
2
*****2nd grade, Mrs. Weiland: I adored Mrs. Weiland. She was so sweet and spoke words of encouragement to me – the first time I remember any adult ever doing that. When I drew pictures, she’d say, “Wow-you could be an artist someday.” When I wrote stories, she’d say, “I bet you’ll write books someday.” I remember her husband stopping by in his Marine haircut during recess one spring afternoon. They spoke briefly and kissed and we all giggled, peeking through the chain link fence, romantic fancies taking flight. I can still remember her cute, short haircut and multi-colored frosted tresses. I admired her so much I once colored a picture of her using at least 6 different colors to create that hair and a classmate paid me a quarter for it, which I promptly spent on penny candy at the corner market. I wish I still had the picture. I wish I could tell Mrs. Weiland that I love still art and writing and that her words, her cheering-me-on, made a difference.
If you wanted the sky I would write across the sky in letters,
That would soar a thousand feet high,
To Sir, with Love
3
***3rd grade, Miss Petrie: She taught me to eschew prejudice based on skin color. We really celebrated Black History Month in her class and learned so much. George Washington Carver and Martin Luther King Jr (who had been slain less than a year earlier) became heroes to me. She also introduced me to the music of Motown, and o baby – yes! Still LOVE those Motown sounds!
Each student got to have dinner at Miss Petrie’s apartment during the school year and she led us in a loud, raucous rendition of “Found a Peanut” in the car on the way. We also stopped at J. C. Penney’s to pick up her cinnamon-colored pantyhose. And I couldn’t wait to wear pantyhose when I grew up. I literally spent years in suntan-colored L’eggs Sheer Energy, YEARS! I miss them sometimes…but not that often.
4
***4th grade, Ms. Lynch: She read to us after lunch. We’d put out heads on our desks and listen to stories like Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, Charlotte’s Web and Old Yeller. It seemed we were too old to be read to and hadn’t been since Kindergarten, but I remember it being a lovely, restful, soothing time of the day – to have some one read to me. I also learned to knit during lunchtime in her classroom. Knit one, pearl two. I recently bought some classics I want to read to my grandbebes even though they are learning for themselves. For, being read to is sweet! They will always remember that I first shared that story with them…like I do about Miss Lynch.
5
(-*****) 5th grade, Mrs. S_____: That is a negative 5 stars and the reason I am not saying her name. I can’t remember her ever saying anything at all to me except to make fun of me once because I loved Danny Bonaduce. Tsk. My grandma died in the spring, rocking my young world. My tummy hurt all the time and it was very important for the desks to remain perfectly straight at. all. times…or she’d straighten them! I missed 31 days of school that year. No wonder. A teacher is a powerful person in a child’s life. But they’re human and may forget that sometimes. Just hope my grandbebes always have teachers who know their impact, who know their own strength to influence the generations through what they impart, for good or bad.
Me…my birthday party during the 4th grade; Mr McGarry and the whole 6th grade class.
6
********** 6th Grade, Mr. McGarry (yes-that is more than 5 stars!). I was just an odd kid, a preacher’s daughter and I was hitting that awkward age. I felt unsure of myself and the neat little-girl life I’d had growing up with family around for the first 10 years of my life was over. We’d moved and I’d started started 5th grade late in a brand new city. Then we moved again, across town, during my 6th grade year. I’d have attended 9 schools by the time I graduated when I’d begun so nicely, having been in one neighborhood school for grades K-4th.
By the time I entered Mr. McGarry’s class, I was sullen and lonely. I didn’t want to start all over again. It was mid-year and cliques and friendships had been formed. I’d decided I would just endure it. He was very gentle and kind. Somehow, very quietly he got me involved. He engaged me in conversation, as if anything I could have to talk about even mattered! Then he acted as a bridge to friendships with other kids. He helped me become a “patrol” and signed me up to monitor classrooms of the younger kids during teacher’s breaks and lunch recesses.
Somehow in a short time, this wise and all-knowig teacher teacher, who had to be very young himself at the time, made what was sure to be a distasterous half-year then on-to-junior-high way better than just bearable. I made great friends that year. I actually had fun. Academically? Nothing stands out to me, really (which may not be what a teacher hopes for), but I remember his kindness and respect towards me and all of the other students. And I know he taught us to respect one another, too. The classroom was laid-back and Mr McGarry allowed us to arrange our desks as we wished (that seemed crazy wild at the time) and I LOVED game and music days in his classroom, spinning 45s on one of those big, clunky school turn-tables (“Rockin’ Robin” by the J5…”The Lion Sleeps Tonight”) or while we played Password or some such “educational” game. There was a dog-eared paperback copy of Hal Lindsey’s The Late, Great Planet Earth on Mr McGarry’s desk. And I remember knowing he really cared if it went well for me. And he saw to it that it did.
The time has come,
For closing books and long last looks must end,
And as I leave,
I know that I am leaving my best friend,
A friend who taught me right from wrong,
And weak from strong,
That’s a lot to learn,
What, what can I give you in return?
I went back to visit Mr. McGarry after I’d gone on to junior high, just before we moved to yet another city. And he told me that when I had first come to his classroom, I never smiled – that is what he remembered about me. But he told me he was happy when I started smiling – that that is what he’d wanted to see. That surprised me. I’d never known anyone before who was concerned with whether or not I smiled. It absolutely made a huge difference in my life, especially so near the teen years.
Mr. McGarry (Robert McGarry, Buchanan Elementary in Davenport, Iowa 1972) – if you’re out there ~ YOU WERE THE BEST! Thank-you so much! I still think of you with fondness, I still thank God for you. I am sure you didn’t even really know how much your kindness meant to me. But thank-you for the smile, for determining to help me get it back. And just so you know – I am still smiling like crazy!
“Teaching is the profession that teaches all the other professions.”
I had a lot of teachers over the years. I wasn’t able to get to know most of them very well. My 9th Grade Algebra teacher, Mr. Harper, actually gave me his teacher’s copy of the book because he said I needed it worse than he did! ;p I cherish it still! In it he wrote, “I wish I could’ve gotten better acquainted with you and I probably could have if I’d been sitting in Laurie’s seat,” in reference to the fact that I spent a lot of time chatting with a friend. Hahhahahha!
But I know that nothing is wasted and for better or for worse, I learned the things I’d need for life from the men and women who chose to teach. I was taught and I am grateful.
If you wanted the moon I would try to make a start,
But I, would rather you let me give my heart,
To Sir, with Love*
The dream begins with a teacher who believes in you, who tugs and pushes and leads you to the next plateau, sometimes poking you with a sharp stick called “truth.” ~Dan Rather
Photographer, Eric Gruneisen for Westword, took these at Heaven Fest and I loved what he captured this way. These are the people who came: real, everyday people. Some normal, some maybe not-so-much. Some came for just the music and fellowship and fun. Some came to make the Name of Jesus glorious.
I smile at some of these t-shirt sentiments because I love the truth and the creative ways they found to share it and I cringe at others because, though this is my “family” – the whole, big crazy bunch of Jesus followers from every possible denomination and set of values, some of those shirts just won’t play well to others, they won’t know the wearer’s personality or what, in life and experience, has made them choose the shirt they wear. Like any fam, there are some crazy opinions and thoughts out there. You get 30,000 people together and there is bound to be some hilarious differences along with the familial similarities. But they are mine – these people, part of the household of faith.
Love IS the movement
Heaven Fest: Mostly Jesus lover/followers and passionate crusaders. They are people who are willing to live their lives for something other than themselves. And they don’t mind letting you know what they think. And it is too bad that often Christians are the only ones people want to censor.
Definitely register at the site and leave some comments for the slideshow. Tell them your favorites and support the fam, the Body! Someday we may have to do the same for you!
I had a Friday night date with THREE guys (all very very good-looking, mind you) and they got off really easy for sure. We went to McDonalds and I only had the small Spicy Chicken Sandwich and some fries off the dollar menu, with water. Much like Kenny Banya on the Seinfeld episode, I feel I am still owed a meal! (NOT a McDonalds fan)
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It’s boy night here. McD’s has a great play-thing and Gavin and Hunter are having a sleep-over at our house. Poppa even let them play with his vintage GI Joes and all the cool accessories in the foot locker. The 1960s GI Joes were always my Barbie-doll’s love interests. Ken was a little too…prissy. I am certain the grandsons would be mortified to know my childhood secrets.
I couldn’t find a live version of John Denver (which I like a lot), so enjoy this original version, silly-but-o-so-true song by the extremely tomato-insightful Guy Clark:
There ain’t nothin’ a homegrown tomato won’t cure!
I will soon go a doula-ing (doula is Greek and means “a woman who serves”) for Stef and Wrex when Sawyer Joell is born. I’m not really a doula, I just get to play one with people I adore (Carol Ann is soon to do the same thing with Emma of Gospel Journey fame!).
“I don’t know nothin’ ’bout birthin’ no babies, Miss Scarlett…”
Actually, I do. I got to attend birthing class with the Phipps a few weeks back and recently checked out a few birthing books from the library. It is bringing back the memories, omygoodness! Because, you know, I had a few babies back in the day. And I was really good at it, if I do say so myself. Now-how will I be in this role? I am hoping not to faint or require constant fanning or smelling salts. I hope I don’t get too empathetic with Stef and start crying out to God for mercy in a loud voice. I just don’t think that will help.
The book.
Meanwhile I have been studying and researching and brushing up on my birthing knowledge. I have enlisted prayer support and continue to madly write in the litle journal I will leave with Stef and Wrex for Sawyer to enjoy someday. In it is advice on labor and delivery and some sound wisdom on raising kids. I have included lists of things I want to remember while at the hospital and signs to look for as labor progresses. There are make-you-sniffle baby quotes and prayers for Sawyer. I have given baby girl the inside scoop on who her parents really are and shared favorite scripture passages.
In short, I am hand-writing an entire book just for the occasion of the birth of Sawyer Joell Phipps.
It is good stuff! And yes…none of it is original, but I have collected it over the years and I am writing it in the book, so it is mine!
O Sawyer? Where are youoooo?
Now, truth to tell, we had actually sort of cleared our calendars for today seeing 8.9.10 as a wondrous day for a birth. But we know God has this thing all planned out and are just anxious for Him to let us in on His perfect plan. He seems to have us on a need-to-know basis for the moment. But we are ready, I tell ya!
Thoughts on the threat of C-Section during Labor
I do come across some very thought-provoking information these days. For instance, an article about the negative hormonal effect on a woman when she is laboring and is told “If you don’t start progressing/dilating/efacing (or whatever her shortcoming) soon, we’re going to have to do a C-Section” and how that actually is detrimental to her labor and begins to inhibit the process was explained thus:
If a man was told that he had to get an erection and ejaculate within a certain time or he’d be castrated, do you think it would be easy? To make it easier, perhaps he could have an IV put into his arm, be kept in one position, have straps placed around his penis, and be told not to move. He could be checked every few minutes; the sheet could be lifted to see if any “progress” had been made.
“A sigh is an audible exhalation of air arising from tiredness or emotion, usually sadness, which itself could be stemming from feelings of sadness or futility. A sigh can also arise from positive emotions such as relief. Some people do it just to cool down organs or suppress emotions”. -Wikipedia
A recent stay at Marriott’s Springhill Suites presented something intriguing. A card on the mirror in the sitting room asked: “Can you sigh backwards?” And below mentioned the smoke-free policy, or some request to refrain from smoking, or something like that. I wasn’t quite sure how they went together? Were they asking, based on a sigh being a relief from stress or a sign of relaxation, ‘how can you be relaxed fully if you are inhaling a cigarette?'” Perhaps.
But the way I first took it, I guess, was as the opposite of a sigh of exasperation or a sigh of frustrated resignation. I thought they meant, of the “backward sigh,” the thought of enjoying life by your breath being taken away, or the way you gasp in a breath with delight at a wonderful event or a sweet surprise, like Will Smith said in the movie, Hitch (2005),
“Life is not about how many breaths you take, it’s about the moments that take your breath away.”
How many ways can you sigh, anyway?
Sighing does show up during both stress and negative emotions like panic or pain and extreme fatigue (Tredessa and I have both been accused of sighing a lot). But also during positive emotions like ralaxation or relief (*whew!).
But since you actually have to breathe in to be able to exhale a sigh, I am not quite sure how you can actually “sigh backwards,” as the Marriott sign seems to suggest (would you have to breathe out first and then in??), though, if my original thoughts were to hold (which they should, I believe, naturally), I kind of like the reminder. Look for the “catch your breath” moments in life. They are they ones to hold onto and cherish!
A *sigh in a song
Turns out there are quite a few songs about sighing. Here is one I like. It sounds like a sigh, too. A really good, long, soft sigh.
And then sometimes you’ve just been waiting to exhale…Sighs in scripture:
Isaiah 35:8
There will be a highway called the Holy Road. No one rude or rebellious is permitted on this road. It’s for God’s people exclusively— impossible to get lost on this road…The people God has ransomed will come back on this road. They’ll sing as they make their way home to Zion, unfading halos of joy encircling their heads, Welcomed home with gifts of joy and gladness as all sorrows and sighs scurry into the night.
Romans 8:26
Meanwhile, the moment we get tired in the waiting, God’s Spirit is right alongside helping us along. If we don’t know how or what to pray, it doesn’t matter. He does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs, our aching groans…
Psalm 31:6
I hate all this silly religion, but you, God, I trust. I’m leaping and singing in the circle of your love; you saw my pain, you disarmed my tormentors, You didn’t leave me in their clutches but gave me room to breathe. Be kind to me, God— I’m in deep, deep trouble again. I’ve cried my eyes out; I feel hollow inside. My life leaks away, groan by groan; my years fade out in sighs…
Psalm 55:16
I call to God; God will help me. At dusk, dawn, and noon I sigh deep sighs—he hears, he rescues. My life is well and whole, secure in the middle of danger…
From The Message…”I sigh deep sighs and He hears…”
Kari Jobe (one of my all-time favorites) leading worship at main stage near the end of the night, mixed with scenes from the day. This is just 4 minutes of over a week of cool stuff, because as soon as volunteers set foot on the property, the miracles and love started flowing! THANKS FOR THIS VIDEO, GREG “HD” VERSPOHL! Love ya!Seriously!
It is wild, crazy fun and tiring. In a reeeeeeeaaaalllly good way. Volunteers start showing up to help build stages. Tent companies start setting up. The port-o-potties arrive by the truckfull. The interns order mountains of food and water the workers. Newspapers show up to take pictures and a bald eagle sat watch from a tree backstage today! Nice people everywhere!
Omygoodness: THANK-YOU to everyone who helped build stages yesterday and today. And to people in the office stuffing packets and answering hundreds of phone calls and running errands and keeping us in chocolate!
Dave at bat. The boys taking a breather.
Rocky…Serious about pitching.
