The Grinch Proves True

A childhood Christmas favorite of mine was watching the Jim Carrey version of How the Grinch Stole Christmas multiple times between Thanksgiving and Christmas, laughing along to catchy songs and witty lines.

I actually still practice this tradition. I nearly drove my brother crazy during our childhood, and now I nearly drive my husband nuts. Hey, it's tradition!

I remember the first time I saw How the Grinch Stole Christmas. It was December in 2000, and my mom and I went out on a mother/daughter date. We went to a theatre in Topeka, and it was packed. I laughed so hard I choked on popcorn, and my mom laughed so hard she had tears rolling down her cheeks.

I can quote every line, impersonate all the voices, and laugh every time I watch the movie. I actually wore a VHS out and eventually begged my mom to invest in a DVD version of the Dr. Seuss classic.

But never has the theme of The Grinch impacted me as much as it did this year.

Last night, after my first Christmas apart from my parents but my first Christmas with my Idaho parents, I fell asleep watching The Grinch, snuggled up next to my husband. But also for the first time, I was crying, not laughing.

The Grinch figured it out, and I find myself in total agreement. Take away all the presents, all the fancy dinners and traditions, and Christmas comes anyway.

"'It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes, or bags!' And he puzzled. And puzzled. And puzzled some more. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before. 'Maybe Christmas,' he thought, 'doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.'"

It's not about the presents. It's not about the food. It's about being with family, with people, in fellowship.

But Dr. Seuss missed one detail, though: it's also about Christ, and Idaho church services richly blessed my heart today as they celebrated the gift of Jesus.

Without writing a short novel, I'll simply say the people of Weippe Wesleyan Church and Eternal Hope Wesleyan Church are walking hands and feet of Christ, and I love them dearly. The Blains, my wonderful in-laws, are the walking hands and feet of Christ, and I love them dearly, too.

We took communion at Eternal Hope today, and I simply wept. There are moments when I am utterly homesick and find myself angry at God for bringing Josh and I 1,800 miles from my family, but there are also moments when I am so sure of God's call that I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. Today, that peace settled in my heart. While Idaho may not be home to me now, and quite honestly might never be, Bethlehem wasn't home to Jesus, either. And yet he came. Who am I to be angry at God?

Christmas frenzies are stressful, and they drudge up a lot of emotion, but shouldn't they? After all, I'm sure there was a lot of emotion stirring in a little stall in Bethlehem and at the Father's throne when Jesus came to this earth in the form of a baby to bring the world a Savior.

In the words of The Grinch, "I'm feeling!"

And this Christmas will forever be cherished.

Dr. Seuss, you got something very right.

May Christmas Eve Find You Well

Josh and I just spent a wonderful week in Kansas with the Lesslie/Hada clan, and it was refreshing to be in the Mid West again. It blows my mind to realize the stark difference of cultures between Kansas/Oklahoma and Idaho/Washington, but it also kind of makes me smile.

I flew back to Kansas in October to visit family, but this was Josh's first time back for nearly a year (let's just say I've missed it much more than he has!). Who knew Kansans were so friendly!

We are currently sitting in the Seattle Airport, waiting for our last connection to once again greet the fog, coniferous trees, and mountains of our valley. And it will be good to be home.

As I sit and watch (one of my favorite pastimes in airports) I am once again more aware of how richly blessed Josh and I are, not only because we found one another in this world of mates, but also because we share something that makes life so much more worth waking up to: Christ.

As people hustle and bustle from plane to plane, chewing flight attendants and gate workers out, I am in awe of courtesy, or the lack thereof.

When did Christmas become this chaos?

Flying truly reveals how people handle stress, and today we've seen people yell, cut in lines, and flat out break down weeping.

And as I sit in this little corner of the Seattle Airport, I find myself just wanting to be with family, and away from this fast-paced mayhem.

Austin, Josh's youngest brother, just got in from Rome, so I guarantee his flying experience was much more stressful than either of ours this Christmas, so I am looking forward to peace and laughter once we find ourselves with our wonderful Blain clan.

Wherever you find yourselves this Christmas, may the Lord bless you and keep you as you celebrate the birth of our beautiful Savior, and may you overlook the holiday stresses that distract from the real reason of this season.

There And Back Again

Sometimes I feel like Bilbo Baggins.

Bilbo Baggins is the hero of J.R.R. Tolkien’s book The Hobbit. In the story, he is recommended by Gandalf the wizard to go on an adventure, as an expert burglar. Only he doesn’t begin as much of a hero - or a burglar - at all. In fact, he has every characteristic of someone who is not a hero. He is small – hobbits only stand about three or four feet tall – not much to contend with men and dwarves and dragons. He is also not very brave. He likes his posh life in his comfortable home. He has never burgled a thing in his life. He was the least likely person that should have gone on the adventure. That is what he thought, and that is what his companions thought. Bilbo Baggins is not of much use, they all said, but Gandalf assured them that he would prove himself more useful than even he knew.

So they set out on their adventure, to go to places that Bilbo has never heard or dreamed of, and to do things that he never could have imagined. He soon becomes a burden to his companions, always getting them into trouble, and causing much more trouble than they think he is worth. Many, many times he wishes that he had never came on the adventure, and that he was back at his home having tea. However, whenever someone grumbles against him, the old wizard Gandalf always says something to the effect that “he has much more worth than you know.” Gandalf saw what Bilbo could be, and believed that he would one day be that person.

Several times Bilbo finds himself alone, in the dark, starving, with no way to find his path again, and he has to make a choice. He can either lay down and die, or he can summon all of his courage, to do something that he has never done before, something that he is terrified of. He has never had a battle of wits with an underground creature, where he faced death if he was outsmarted. He had never battled giant spiders. He had never helped anyone escape from dungeons. Nonetheless, these are the things that he faces, and his only hope is to try with all his might.

In the end, through all of his trials, Bilbo does become the hero that Gandalf said he would be. Even he never thought that he could be that hero, but that was what he became.

Sometimes I feel like Bilbo Baggins.

God has sent me on a great adventure. He has laid a call on my life. He is sending me to do things that I never could have imagined. But sometimes I don’t feel like I have what it takes, and I have all kinds of excuses. “I’ve never done what you’re asking me to do before! I am not who you say I am – you expect too much out of me! I am small and insignificant! I am not brave!” But I followed.

In Habakkuk, God says “For I am going to do something in your days that you would not believe, even if you were told.” When we first meet the judge Gideon, an angel of the Lord calls him a “mighty warrior,” which at the time, he clearly is not. God sees what we cannot see in ourselves. He sees what we can become, and if we are willing to follow him, we will become that person.

Still, at times I find myself feeling like Bilbo. There are times when I feel like I am more of a burden than a help. There are times when I wish that I was “back at home, having tea.” That is, doing something more easy and comfortable. There are times when I feel totally alone. There are times when I don’t know where the path is. There are times when I feel like I am shrouded in darkness. But, if I am going to follow God, I have to be courageous, and step out boldly against things that I have never faced before. The good news is that those are the very places when I have the chance to become the person that God knows I can be. Romans reminds us of this truth.

““But my righteous one will live by faith.
And I take no pleasure
in the one who shrinks back.”

But we do not belong to those who shrink back and are destroyed, but to those who have faith and are saved.”
- Romans 10:38-39

I am not perfect. I haven’t mastered this thing called life. I am still on my way to wherever God is leading me. But I know that I have to try. I have to give my best to this God who sees something worthwhile in me.

In the book, after all is said and done, Bilbo writes down all his adventures and he titles them There And Back Again. In the end, when all of his trials are over, he gets to go home. We must always remember that we, too, are headed home.

“Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”
- II Corinthians 4:16-18

I was blessed this week by a book that was written 73 years ago for children, and I hope that you, too are blessed.

Until we’re home,

Josh

I Digress...

I am weary.

I think, no, I am convinced I am looking forward to Christmas break more than my students. And they are the reason.

I love them. Truly. They have slipped into my heart and I genuinely cherish them. But some days, enough is enough.

Who ever knew a 5-paragraph research paper was asking for the moon? I missed that moment of reality somewhere along the journey. If those little turkeys would just focus their energy on DOING the paper, instead of trying to talk me into pushing back the due date, they would all be finished by now. Or even yesterday. Or last week.

I slave-drive all day, get home and do homework, then drag my weary body to bed. Sleep a few hours. Wake-up. Tell Josh good-bye. And start over. This routine is getting old.

I write not to claim "Poor me," but rather to remind myself that it probably could be much worse.

I had a parent come in after school today, and I knew it was coming. When I'm a parent, will I automatically think my child is always right? Or perfect? Or brilliant? Someone slap me if that happens. Bring me back to reality.

So here I've sat, churning over the day's events, and I all can claim is, "And I thought yesterday was tough."

I didn't know what tough was yesterday.

And so...I digress. Life might just have to be stinky for a season. Research season.

Welcome to Narnia

Our Idaho town has officially had its first snowfall, and all I can say is, 'Welcome to Narnia." It truly is beautiful here, but I do miss the flats of Kansas. Ivan is loving the snow, though, and although he can't eat it all, he does try.

Have a wonderful Thanksgiving. Josh and I send you our love.

Good-bye, Little Rumbler

Today marked history. And it almost feels like I have betrayed an old friend.

In July of 2003, I bought my very first car, with my very own money. That car, lovingly named Little Rumbler, became a symbol of independence. And it was pink, well, technically "raspberry."


(The day I drove Little Rumbler home...I was 16)

After eight wonderful years of having that little 1996 Pontiac Sunfire, I have moved on. It's crazy how much this feels like a break-up.

Josh and I went to town to look at a 1998 Toyota Corolla today. Little Rumbler, who had 220,000 miles on her, was beginning to get tired. She didn't have power locks or windows. She no longer had the ability for air conditioning. She, and never because of me, was totaled four times in the eight years I owned her. Her paint was peeling off, and her rear brake lights were finicky. And I felt it was finally time for an adult car.

While I did plan on purchasing the Corolla today, I did not plan to see Little Rumbler drive away today. But there was a plan under foot I had not anticipated.

I really wanted to give my car away to a student in need of a vehicle. The retail value on a body like my 1996's was barely $500. Little Rumbler may have been in need of a few cosmetic touch-ups, but she ran well.

After Josh and I drove away with the Corolla, I noticed a woman I had met once back in February. Those two months I worked with Alternative Nursing Services...yes...at one of our staff meetings...that was it. Crystal something...

We stopped at a gas station to grab lunch, and then Crystal came, not driving, but walking up to the station. She came inside and sat down, so I peeked my head out and waved at her. She seemed flustered, so I said, "Do you need a ride?"

"Ah! Yes- do you mind?"

Come to find out, her van broke down a week or so ago, and was going to take about $3,000 to fix.

And my heart jumped...and the words just flew out.

"I have a car you can have. Do you want it?"

And then Crystal burst into tears.

And I burst into tears.

And we drove back to Kooskia and cleaned out Little Rumbler, and I watched her pink, cute little rear-end drive away for what could be the last time.

Crystal wept when she first spotted the car, and exclaimed, "It's beautiful! It's perfect! I have a car!"

She said just this morning, during her 7-mile walk into town for work, she very humbly prayed, "God, I need a car. And I don't want to ask You, but could you give me something?"

And this is where I'm humbled, because how often are we used as the tangible hands of feet of Christ?

It's just a car right? A hot, stick shift, manual windows and locks, paint-peeling car, right?

Not to Crystal. To her, it's livelihood. To me, it was independence.

As Crystal hugged me one last time before she drove back up the hill, she whispered one of my favorite blessings into my ear.

"The LORD bless you and keep you. The LORD lift His face to shine upon you, and bring you peace."

And with tears in my eyes I whispered back, "And to you, also."

God used a pink 1996 Pontiac Sunfire today, and it touched my heart deeply.

How to Win When You Can't Hit Back

I've run into many highly hilarious happenings during my short time as a high school English teacher. I've watched a student pull belly-button lint from his navel during class. I stood in horror during cross-dress spirit day as I spotted teenage boys with curvier figures than me. I've seen teenage brains break in the midst of high hormones. I've even witnessed a teen projectile vomit from her desk. But none of these occurrences have made me angry.

Today, for the first time in my teaching history, I lost my temper.

Looking back, today's events could easily go into the 'highly hilarious happenings' category (how's that alliteration for you!), but only after the fact. In the midst of the day's events, my only thought was, "I can't retaliate. I'm an adult."

This week has been grueling. Little sleep, high emotion, and evaluations looming have made the days drag on, so today was just a recipe for disaster.

I have one class for struggling readers. I have six high school students, all of whom read on about a 6th grade level. Keep in mind, five of these six kids are incredible, gifted students who simply struggle with reading. If it were up to them, they would be taking AP courses and plotting out college plans. But limited reading has a way of dashing great academic dreams, a concept I'm trying to correct in these students.

The sixth student, though, is a very capable, very intelligent kid. He just simply won't apply himself. By acting dumb, and acting out, he's figured out that high school can actually be a breeze with little to no effort.

Today, oh today...student #6 waltzed into class with a paper airplane, cocked and ready to go.

I simply stated, "#6, don't you dare." He looked me full in the eye, arched his hand back, and yelled, "Sean! Catch this!"

But he did not anticipate his poor ability to throw the paper airplane.

And the 8 1/2 by 11 inch paper missal missed its target, and paper cut me...in the neck.

And this would be where I lost my temper.

I could think of nothing better than strangling this kid, so I coldly stated, "Get out."

"Hahaha, very funny, Mrs. Blain."

"No. You. Get. Out."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry! I won't throw it again."

"Get out!"

By this point, the rest of the class had made their way into the room, and, eyes wide, echoed, "Just get out!"

I told #6 I'd call down to the office when I was ready for him to come back to class, but I had to give myself ten minutes. I don't know where the anger came from, but I genuinely had no love in my heart at that moment for #6.

After, not ten, but fifteen minutes, I called down to the office and said #6 could return to class.

He was an absolute angel.

After class, I kept #6, and made him sign a detention slip. One hour. With me. He'll be cleaning my classroom, top to bottom. And I am going to love every single minute.

I'm not mad anymore, but the slice on my neck stings a bit. I take solace in knowing that very soon, my whiteboards will be clean, my text books will be organized, and all of the desk tops will be sanitized.

Thank you, #6.

And so, for today, Mrs. Blain- 0, #6- 0, paper airplane- 1.