Sometimes I'm really surprised that the kind folks over at Waterbrook Press/Multnomah still let me participate in their new release blog tours. I'm notoriously late getting my reviews posted. In my defense, I could very easily post the summary they provide me. But if you know me (and you should know me by now if you read this) you know that I generally don't care for that level of ingenuineness. When I agreed to be part of the blog tour for " Wild Goose Chase " I couldn't wait to read this book. The book's title comes from the Celtic word for the Holy Spirit. Loosely translated it is "wild goose". I think you get the idea. With such a hectic schedule these days, I didn't have much spare time for reading. I forced myself to read it this week. The week the review was due. But I knew that this book deserved at least my own impressions. I'm glad I read it. The book is about following the leading of the Holy Spirit. You know...the raw, passion

Everyone keeps asking me how I like working with high school students. The best way to describe it is that last Friday during 8th period, I asked the kids to be quiet. And they did. On the first request. In middle school that request would have been followed by several more requests, each louder than the previous one, and then the threats of phone calls home. It's night and day, people. And now I tell everyone with a middle schooler that it really does get better. I had no intentions of being a teacher, and I really don't believe I'll be doing this for the rest of my life. My passions lie in other areas, but I do believe that God placed me in this field for a reason. I spent 4 years working with 7th graders, and even though they were some of the toughest years, they were also healing for me. It was a place I needed to be to connect some dots and gain some perspective to heal some long-standing wounds I incurred during my own 7th grade year. I firmly believe my high school e

Growing up in Florida means having an intimate knowledge of the inner workings of tropical storms and hurricanes. My poor husband has accepted the fact that we will always have a cupboard designated for canned ravioli and potatoes and tuna that we will throw out and restock once a year. Living near the coast, though, requires more than just some food in the pantry and a few extra candles. We bought a weather radio to keep us company just in case the power went out and we had no more batteries for the portable t.v. And then we waited for Tropical Storm/Possibly Hurricane Fay. I stayed awake for most of the night because my heart jumped out of my chest every time the radio siren went off. Learning about a tornado warning in Palm Beach County (across the state from me) at 2 a.m. doesn't exactly make for great sleep. But I did stay out of the tornado's way. In all seriousness, I was petrified at the thought of a tornado. I asked everyone who called me that night to pray that we w

Alan: You already got some canned foods and we will have to eat what's in the freezer if the power goes out. We have water. Anything else? Me: Hold on. (I disappear into an aisle and pop out with two boxes in hand.) Alan: What's that? Me: Hair color. Alan: Hair color? There's a storm coming and you're worried about coloring your hair? Me: We all have our priorities, dear.

I am grateful... for my dentist and the way he smiles after he's done working inside my mouth and how that simple smile tells me, "see, it really wasn't as bad as you thought it would be" I am grateful... for my husband and the way he makes inappropriate gestures with canned goods in the grocery store and how I spontaneously burst into giggles for the rest of the shopping trip I am grateful... for my friend and the way she left for me a phone message and how that message reminded me that I'm not the only person in the world who thinks the story of Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes meeting was romantic I am grateful... for my new school and the way the staff has welcomed me and how much it reminds me of another school where I worked and felt loved and accepted and appreciated I am grateful... for OPI "You Otta Wear Purple" and the way it shines on my toes and how it makes me feel like a million bucks even when I wear plastic Wal-Mart flip flops I am gratef

I haven’t felt this betrayed by a story line since Neo learned that not only was he not the first person to challenge the Matrix, but he was part of the plan all along. Even though I was sorely disappointed in what appeared to be a cop-out story line, I can understand the logic in that disappointing plot twist. I can’t say the same for Stephenie Meyer’s conclusion to her wildly popular “Twilight” series. Look, I’ve read each of the first three books at least twice, and my grad school entrance paper was a character analysis of Edward Cullen. I loved these books. I read “New Moon” and “Eclipse” in a single day. I’ve been discussing the plot lines and characters with my students for the last two years. It was a long wait for this final book. And a huge part of me wishes I was still waiting. It was that much of a letdown. I’m still debating just how to tiptoe through my inevitable conversations with students about this part of the “Twilight” saga. My students were embarrassed enough by th

A recurring theme in my life right now is how our lives collide at any given moment with the lives of those around us, often in inconvenient times and methods. Promotions can be granted while someone loses a job. A miscarriage can be mourned while a birth is celebrated. Couples break up while weddings are planned. Choices are altered by circumstances within and beyond our control. What amazes me is how often we're all dealing with our own degrees of pain and joy at any given moment. Today I learned that someone very dear to me has been carrying a burden for at least the last 4 years. I'm directly connected to that burden, through no malice on either side. It's just life at work. Our lives collided, leaving both of us feeling pretty bruised and bloody and lost in the silence of the unspeakable. I want to wrap my arms around this person. And cry. And apologize. And mourn the shift in our lives' paths. Perhaps that day will arrive at some point. Until then, I still need to