Give me the Son, With all His Beams Full Dazzling!

You would think, after countless moments of God revealing his faithfulness, I would expect him to pull through before I expected him to ignore me.

Until today, the sun forgot about the existence of Kooskia, Idaho, leaving us off its daily appearance list. We live in the valley that the sun boycotts, but today, those cheery rays graced us once again.

Monday, it hailed. Tuesday, it snowed. Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, it rained. Six weeks of dark and wet weather. That's 42 days...1,008 hours...60,480 minutes...3,628,800 seconds. Can you sense my depression expanding!?!?

But today, yellow beaming, warmth dripping, full-body surrounding SUN!!!

Josh is in the yard, with one of the cutest 8-year-olds I've ever seen, doing yard work. The mower is running, the boy is laughing, Josh is hollering over the noise, and I'm digging out fifteen hard-earned dollars for David, our new 3rd grade landscaper.

This morning our church had its first community event. Alongside the Chamber of Commerce, Eternal Hope Wesleyan Church put on an Easter egg hunt in the park. Nearly 150 kids, with probably 150 additional adults, showed up, baskets in tow, ready to "hunt the wabbit."

I checked my watch when Josh announced the hunt to begin- 10:02. At 10:04, there were no more eggs to be found. In two minutes, 150 children gathered over 2,000 Easter eggs! What a sight to see!

Along with the sun, God has remembered that Josh and I are still here, trying to reach this valley with His light. The winters are so long, but the Light is coming! Hope is on His way.

Doors are opening, and we find ourselves so very blessed.

Josh has been asked to speak at the community bachiloriette the end of May, my senior students have asked me to give the benediction at their graduation ceremony, and Josh has been asked to preach at the community Church in the Park this summer. Slowly, we are seeing the community embrace us, and we are praying that God will grow the body here in this little valley.

The winters may be long...as C.S. Lewis states in Narnia, "Always winter, never spring"...but the plum trees are showing their blooms, the grass is beginning to grow, the hills are turning green, and the Light is eating the dark. As promised, the Son will thrive.

Happy Easter!

A Revolutionary Conversation

I think I finally caught a glimpse of the allure of the epic toddler battle leading to the question, "Why."

For no particular reason other than sheer curiosity, and maybe slight boredom, I used no word other than "Why" for an entire conversation with my husband. Josh was the guinea pig- and he played along quite smoothly.

Because of one leading question, "Why," we spent ten minutes talking first about a topic neither of us can actually remember, which segued into the galaxy's make-up, Facebook, the Pope's childhood traumas of insecurity and his personal blame for his little brother's death (which Pope you ask? It doesn't matter- I'm fairly certain it applies to them all), the king and queen of England, drugs, conception of viruses, and finally, beauty.

Keep in mind, to really play along, the "Why" asker must change voice inflection, and the answerer must be willing to bend the truth with creativity. Or sheer tomfoolery.

Our conversation end piece, beauty, satiated me. After probably 200 "Why's," Josh finally said something noteworthy, true, timeless, and raw. It was absolutely cheesy, and yet, profound.

Ready? Here goes.

"People have to be ugly."

"Why?"

"Because if everyone is ugly, then no one can be beautiful."

"Why?"

"Because if everyone was beautiful, then beauty would only be skin deep. And there would be no room for someone who has a good heart to be called beautiful."

"Okay."

Try it. It will blow your mind.

WARNING: This activity will make you question the title of "adult." Be prepared to feel like a toddler when participating in this toddler activity.

Bathrooms as Photo Galleries?

I need your help understanding something.

I'm not incredibly old, and I work with teenagers every single day, but sometimes, I'm totally clueless to their behavior.

Of all the places to capture photos of yourself, the restroom? It makes absolutely no sense to me at all. Three times this week while using the restroom, I've noticed female students standing in front of the mirrors, snapping shots of themselves for what I can only assume will end up on Facebook or MySpace.

A. I'm never letting students go to the bathroom again, because now I know why they ask, and it is most definitely not to go potty.
B. How appealing can it be to have a picture of yourself, trying to look sexy, with three toilets in the background? If that's sexy, then I have failed.

I thought this was the new fad in northern Idaho only, but I just logged off of my own Facebook page and saw four...count them...FOUR other bathroom profile pictures from my own friend list, which includes mostly mid-westerners.

I'm lost. The bathroom is the last place I want to snap a picture of myself.

On a side note, this week I had a team meeting with the cranky mother who sent me on an early spring break. The four male faculty teachers in attendance surrounded me with their presence, one of them declaring he would absorb a punch if the meeting should come to that.

When the mom entered, my blood pressure sky-rocketed. I had an instant migraine from the pulsing blood in my brain.

The loner the meeting went, the more tense I became, but I was vocal. I truly do want to see the student successful, so I wanted my voice to be heard.

The longer the meeting went, though, the stranger the facial expressions of the men sitting around me.

They each cocked their heads a bit, their eyes grew slightly more narrow than usual, and they looked confused. It wouldn't have caught my attention had they not all been making this face at me.

At the tail end of the meeting, the mother did apologize to me in front of everyone, but at the same time, she told me to get over it. Let the past be the past. Move on! Let bygones be bygones. I'm sorry, but if someone chews you out, tells you you're a horrible teacher, then hangs up on you, saying, "Let the past be the past" is the very worst way to indicate remorse. Then she actually said these words: "You should be glad I hung up on you. I felt cuss words coming, so I did what I had to."

In my brain, I was having my own conversation.

"No. Being cussed out is one thing, but being hung up on infuriates me. I hate it- it's the ultimate sign of disrespect in my book when dealing with other adults."

"I'd rather be cussed out, because at least the other person is willing to get the frustration out and then move on to productive conversation. At least I get my say. Being hung up on severs communication. As nasty as being cussed out is, at least communication is still going on."

Again, cue the narrow eyed, head cocked, confused look from the other teachers.

The meeting ended, I grabbed my things, and speedily walked down to my classroom. Another teacher followed me in, and I said, "Okay- what is it? Do I have a big booger on my nose or something? Am I covered in sweat???!"

My teacher friend looked at me and said, "Ashley, you are covered in hives!"

My body betrayed me!!! I was trying to look so calm. I was breathing deeply- I was tightening muscles and letting them relax. I was doing everything I could think of to appear calm.

Curse you, hives!

Now I know, to preserve and document moments like those, I need to walk down to the restroom, snap a picture of myself, and then upload to this blog.

What was I thinking?!

Is a Week Too Long?

Rather than travel all over the Northwest, Josh and I opted to stay home this spring break, but I'm beginning to think we've both caught cabin fever.

The following conversation occurred during dinner tonight, when Josh starting choking and coughing. Me, being the helpful, loving wife that I am, offered, "Quick! I'll give you the Heimlich!"

Now here's where I started to realize we've both officially lost it...

Assume a German accent.

Josh: "Heimlich- that's the boy who steals my lunch money."

Ashley: "Yeah. Every Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday."

We both looked at each other in total shock, then burst up laughing for a very hearty two minutes.

We need to get out more, but acting like children with German accents is, in all honesty, quite a hoot!

Breakfast for a King

Breakfast together is not a normal occurrence in our household. Josh really isn't one to want cereal or fruit- he usually goes straight for burgers or Ramen, which takes place around noon. I'm really the one in our family of two who wants some sort of breakfast before heading to school.

Today, though, Josh woke up and got to work on breakfast.

A few weekends ago, a friend came over and spent the night because Josh was gone for Men's Retreat. She brought two packages of bacon with her for our one-night slumber party, and I'll just level with you: I do love bacon, but there are some things I have abandoned for the greater good. When you live with IBS, there are certain food groups you just learn to live without, and bacon, well- pork of almost any kind, is on my "NO" list.

The friend was slightly hurt, I think, that I only ate one strip, so she left the second package in our refrigerator since it was purchased for our slumber party.

If I'm being totally honest, I also hate cooking bacon. It makes your entire person smell of greasy swine all day long, leaves you with a pan full of grease you have to find creative ways of throwing out, and pops you with a vengeance every single time you fry it.

While it does make me feel like Mt. Saint Helen's erupting in my colon, it also just makes me mad. It stinks, leaves disgusting amounts of melted fat, and injures me. While it may taste yummy, the cons outweigh the pros.

So we just don't eat it often, which hurts my husband's heart, because he is a lover of bacon.

Because Josh was the one to make breakfast this morning, I let him have the kitchen to himself, and I took a few extra minutes sleeping in on this very rainy and gray morning. I had a feeling he'd find that package of bacon, and sure enough, our house began to smell and our bedroom began to get a bit smokey.

Josh was quite proud of himself, and I had to laugh a bit, because as he finished the last tasks of frying, he made the proclamation, "I love bacon...it's like meat candy!" If you know this guy at all, then you know he bleeds Starbursts and jelly beans, so comparing bacon to candy was the closet picture of heaven he could make.
But today's breakfast menu was bacon and pancakes- a mixture of two worlds.

As we sat down to eat, Josh made yet another proclamation. "I hate pancakes. You have to be a starving lumberjack to eat them."

Now this bacon candy lover of mine is putting together a chair for my classroom, singing to himself and making plans of putting Ivan in the chair box once he's finished his project.

Today is a good day.

What a Whirlwind

Finally- spring break! Call out the band and baton twirlers, we've made it!

Between Master's work and Union negotiations, new jobs and ordinations, Josh and I have been running the race of our lives. I'll try to recap what I've failed to blog...

As Josh continues to get in the groove of bus driving, I cannot help but laugh at his stories of students. A few weeks ago, one little girl was trying to finesse a toy from another little boy, so Josh intervened and asked the boy to put his toys away so he wouldn't lose them. This made the little girl angry. Josh said she looked him square in the eyes and said, "What are you? His uncle or somethin'?" To which Josh responded, "No- I'm the bus driver."

Josh and I went to the first track meet of the season, and I must admit, it was strange to be cheering for red and black and not Josh's youngest brothers' black and gold. At this meet, though, I had my first interaction with one of Josh's bus riders.

A very awkward 13 or 14-year-old girl made her claim to fame.

Josh was buying two hamburgers, and I was watching a race, so to a stranger, it probably didn't register that we were together. Out of the nowhere, I hear this teen say, "HEY!" Thinking nothing of it, I continued to watch the race, but then heard my husband respond, "Oh. Hey." I found this odd, as Josh is generally a fairly genial person, so turned to look, and found the teen holding a fist mid-air ready to be pumped, and saw Josh, one burger in each hand, just staring at her. She finally walked away and Josh resumed his burger perfection.

The girl walked off, met up with teenage friend, and then said something shocking.

"See! I told you he was cute."

I nearly died!!!! Josh was, of course, oblivious, so I enlightened him and we both had a good laugh. I told him we were going to have to buy him a blingier ring so girls would know he was taken.

Two weekends ago we drove to Hermiston, OR for Josh's ordination interview. After an hour with a panel of six, Josh passed with hugs and a few tears, and eagerly awaits his ordination service in July. I could not be more proud of this man I get to call mine.

Josh's life has been one thing after another, and life for me has been entertaining as well.

Union rights are in question with new Idaho legislation, and about four weeks ago, our Union leader called a spur of the moment meeting, telling members there was going to be a walk-out and he needed a 'yes' or 'no' count by the end of the day. In a frenzy, I called the most knowledgeable people I could think of, including my mom and mother-in-law, my nana, and a beloved professor from college.

The wisdom and counsel was unanimous- don't walk out.

My first year of teaching has inducted me to the very raw reality of education reform, and the brazen attitudes of some union members and leaders. As a Christian, I didn't feel I could be a part of such an action, especially when I view education as a ministry, not a statement. From our school, only two union members said 'no' to the walk-out, myself being one of them. As a first-year teacher, I determined I had a lot to lose, and the four women I talked with confirmed that.

The walk-out was canceled, but now I know how to respond should this happen again. And as my professor pointed out, I can use that as an opportunity to share a bit of Light with my students when they ask the question, "Why didn't you walk out?"

Friday, the last day before break, I had another raw reality: parents make personal assaults on teachers.

One very angry mother unleashed her fury on me, telling me I wanted her child to fail and that I was a horrible teacher. We're talking screaming through the phone. And then she hung up on me.

I called her to touch base- I've been in touch all semester- and it still wasn't enough. She began an altercation. And I was crushed.

After an hour with my principal- documenting, counseling, reaffirming, and praising- I was sent home. We may not always agree with our bosses, and our bosses may not always agree with us, but I am so thankful for a boss who takes care of me, backs me up, and notices the blood, sweat, and tears I pour into my job. And I am thankful for a boss who occasionally sends me home.

I came home and, with my in-laws en route to South Dakota and my husband, cried a bit more, went to lunch, came home, and crashed.

If teaching were just about teaching, anyone could do it. But teaching is also about humility. And relationships. And love. And passion. And humanness.

And I botch it up horribly sometimes. The last thing on my mind was loving this mother...or her child.

This week is a much needed reprieve.

Twelve more weeks of Master's work. Nine more weeks of this first year of teaching. A few days before baby Lesslie makes his debut in Missouri. Then ten more weeks before I can set aside my 'teacher' hat and don my 'Aunt Ashley' hat. Four weeks after that, Uncle Josh will get to razz up a very cute nephew named Martin.

Life is so good. Even when teenagers think you're cute, unions have melt downs, and parents think you are the embodiment of wicked.

I'm convinced- spring break makes it all better.

Bus Driver

Well, It's official folks, I, Joshua James Bartholomew, am the newest bus driver employed by Kamiah School District.

Ash and I see this as such a clear reminder of God' provision. Around August or September, I had inquired about any open positions at the bus garage. They were looking for a substitute, and would be happy to train me, after I passed my written test with the DMV. Well, life went on, and it never happened. Months passed.

About two months ago I called in and asked if they still needed help and if they would still train me. They said yes.

There was a new position opening up because they were adding a new route and needed a driver fast. When I started training there was also someone else training, and one of us would be a sub and one of us wound get the route position.

When I went into the district office to get the application, reference forms, fingerprint cards, etc., I brought up the fact that I had applied to substitute teach in early 2010. They pulled up my file, and all of the paperwork I had filled out earlier was exactly what they needed. I had been approved to work already, and the only thing I lacked to start working was my CDL, which was in process.

Two weeks later I was driving a new route for the school.

I am amazed at how God provides. All of the pieces fell into place at all the right times.

It's an interesting job, and the students keep me on my toes, but I'm enjoying it, and I'm thankful for God's provision.