Walking By Faith

So, today--well really this whole past few days--has been tiringly confusing, and has caused my over-analytical mind to shift into over-drive...



Burke, the school I currently teach at, is closing and merging with another school. All of the teachers at Burke were supposed to move seamlessly into the new building along with current Ingram-Pye teachers. No problem, right? Well, actually, we discovered a couple of months ago that we would not be seamlessly shifting into the new school, but would have to interview for a spot. In the meantime, my urgent desire to do something different within my career has prompted me to look into teaching gifted for the county. I've pondered and prayed about this opportunity, and felt that this is where God was leading me. So, I figured I would keep a low profile. Interview at Ingram-Pye and apply for the gifted endorsement, keep my possibilities open.



Seems simple enough, but right now there are 115 displaced (syn. without a job) teachers within the county. And with the gifted job application, there's no gurantee that I will be among one of the few who make it through the door. Also, we just signed our contracts for the county this March, while the gifted application process won't even begin until April. Principals are having to make decisions about teachers for next year right now. In an advised decision, I voluntarily put myself on the displacement list attempting to be ethical (not wanting to accept a job at one place while seeking one in another). And, honestly, I didn't think I would be offered a job at Ingram-Pye. Ready to step out on faith and apply for the REACH (gifted) position, I left work at peace for the weekend.



Then, today, I receive a letter of acceptance to Ingram-Pye. "Oh! Now what to do?" Also, I find out that 2 other teachers who were not going to be at the school were also given positions. (To twist things up even more...I had a dream 2 weeks ago that I was unpacking things at a new school building with these 2 teahcers!). What a quandry!!! Do I accept the job that's a sureity or turn it down to pursue something that I REALLY want but am not certain to obtain? Is this a test of my faith to not look at what I see? Or is it God's way of providing for me in the face of the economic crisis?



Not to mention that it also has me second guessing other things I've felt like He was telling me to do where other things are concerned: graduate school, living arrangements, people in my life etc. Were those times merely me wanting something so much that I thought He was telling me something? This is life though, I suppose, walking by faith and expecting His goodness to be constant.

Double-Yolked

As some of you may (or may not) know, Dr. Seuss’ birthday was yesterday (March 2). Since school was out “due to inclement weather” (a.k.a. people below the Fall Line do not know how to act when white stuff falls from the sky), we celebrated this much beloved author’s birthday in our classroom today instead.

After an expressive reading (if I do say so myself) of Green Eggs and Ham, and a round of “I Need a Word” (a clapping/chanting rhyming game), we proceeded to make our very own green eggs and ham. We plugged in the electric skillet, busted out the food-coloring (yellow and blue so we could talk about subtractive color mixing), and opened the carton of eggs.

“How many are in a dozen?” I “wondered” aloud. “eleven!” “four!” It sounded like lottery numbers being called by 6 year olds.

“Well, let’s find out...One egg.” I cracked an egg into the bowl. “Two.” I cracked another into the bowl. But something was odd…there were not 2 yolks in my bowl, there were 3. “That’s weird,” I blurted out. “There are 3 yolks!”

I walked the bowl around the room so the students could see the amazing double-yolked egg (it does sound a little like a side-show event doesn't it?)

"It’s a sign of luck.” Said the inclusion para-pro in my room. “I don’t know about luck, but I’ll take all the blessings I can get!” I said. Satisfied that we had seen an intriguing oddity of nature, we were back to discovering the number of a dozen... “Three eggs, four eggs…Hey, this one is double-yolked too!” Now I really felt singularly privileged. This time, I ran next door to tell Ashley (my suite-mate teacher).

We were both amazed at the phenomenon, but my class was soon back to the discovery of a dozen. We kept cracking open eggs…and to my amazement, out of the entire carton, there were not 2, not 3, not 4, but 5 double-yolked eggs!!! We were astonished. If double-yolks are lucky or a sign of blessing…we’ve received it five-fold. (The picture above shows the eggs. Anywhere the yolks are pressed up to each other-"kissing"- is a double-yolk)

Curious, I came home to find out about these double-yolked ovals. Considered a rarity by some, “not all that rare” by others, I will have to say that over all the years of helping my mom cook and cooking myself, I’ve never seen a double-yolked egg. So what does it mean? Heredity, un-synchronized cycles in the hen, young hens…? According to one source, “throughout history and in different cultures, finding a double yolk has been considered to mean anything from an impending wedding to a financial windfall to a death in the family. (healthdiaries.com/eatthis).

Here’s hoping, since I found 5 of these double-yolked incredible edibles, that either five handsome, Prince Charmings will come begging for my hand in marriage or I will unexpectedly win 5 million dollars. That's what I'm going to expect anyway...

My New Digits or What's in a Number?

We always hear, “what’s in a name?” but maybe we should ask, “what’s in a number?” 867-5309, 36-28-34, last 4 of your social please… I’ve never really liked identifying people by a number, so why do I find myself so attached to this phone number? Forever technologically behind the times, I didn’t get my first cell phone until sometime after I started college. And, like the thousand pairs of shoes that have touched these feet, so my cell phone carriers have changed, bringing with each a new number. However, this last number was the number I’ve had the longest of any, it’s been with me through 2 cell phone carriers, 2 apartments, 2 plus contracts, 4 cell phones (1 of which was stolen), and a multitude of late-night laughs & even later-night therapy sessions. I had been thinking about changing to a Macon number, but like I said, we’ve been through a lot together, this number and I.
Sadly, my phone decided to cease its digital duties. 2 ½ years is, after all, a long life span for a cell phone these days. My mother gave me a TV for Christmas, and I just had cable installed (for the 1st time ever!!!) two weeks ago. At first I thought, maybe I can’t have more than two pieces of working technological equipment at one time. Then, I blamed AT&T’s service. Finally, I consoled myself with Facebook and e-mail as means of communication to the outside world (thanks to those of you who talked back). Maybe it was time, after all these years, to change numbers.
So it was, I found myself at Kroger on Saturday freezing in front of the pay-phone (go ahead and laugh--I did), checking the last few messages I had with calling cards, and canceling my cell-phone service. Hanging up the receiver, I felt kind of sad--saying goodbye to a number I’ve had nearly 6 years. I began to wonder; although I don’t want to reduce people to a numerical identity, I did have a certain affinity for this phone number, because even though we are not numbers, they are a part of us—to some degree. A phone number is a lifeline of sorts, a source of connection to others, and the hope (when it rings) that we have not been forgotten (even if it is only a call to confirm a dentist appointment at 8:15 on Monday morning).
As this phone call is ending, new ones are waiting to be made. The phone lines are now open. First caller through gets to talk to me!