Sunshine's rays burst through my window.
Warming, cheering, promising hope.
Melting snow off icy roadways
Releasing winter's frozen grasp
Welcome sunshine.
Stay.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Water Memories
Today I went sandbagging with two school bus loads of high school students. We were called on to help fight the imminent flood coming to Moorhead, MN and Fargo, ND. It is team work in action. Everyone seems to get it - that there is little time to waste and that lots of help is needed. I didn't want to see it happen again. I thought the flood of 1997 was bad enough.
At that time we were living north of Grand Forks, North Dakota. When that whole city went underwater we had to prepare our home for the worst. It was a crazy time of moving things from lower floors to upper floors. Since we were also getting ready to move away, some of our stuff left the house on a flat bed trailer headed for a friend's garage on higher ground. I tried to forget the feelings of it all, but they come back. Especially when I spoke to a fellow teacher today who knew her home would be flooded. There was the confusion and the desire to do the familiar to keep from having to face the unknown and possibly the unbearable.
Our things may not mean the world to us but our security does - especially if we have children that we want to protect. We want our lives to go on as they have been without unnecessary expense and chaos. Somehow we make it through these times, but it's not easy and not easy to forget.
At that time we were living north of Grand Forks, North Dakota. When that whole city went underwater we had to prepare our home for the worst. It was a crazy time of moving things from lower floors to upper floors. Since we were also getting ready to move away, some of our stuff left the house on a flat bed trailer headed for a friend's garage on higher ground. I tried to forget the feelings of it all, but they come back. Especially when I spoke to a fellow teacher today who knew her home would be flooded. There was the confusion and the desire to do the familiar to keep from having to face the unknown and possibly the unbearable.
Our things may not mean the world to us but our security does - especially if we have children that we want to protect. We want our lives to go on as they have been without unnecessary expense and chaos. Somehow we make it through these times, but it's not easy and not easy to forget.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Spring Fever
It's been a long winter here in north central Minnesota. Right now young and old are frantically preparing to face a flood, the result of a cold winter with record snowfall. The calendar says spring but the sky says Puxatawnie Phil was correct. Six more weeks of winter means we're not done yet. We were tempted to believe it was finally over when the thermometer reached 50. Now, we're faced with twenties again for at least three days. No sunshine, just bleak, gray days. It takes more than imagination to picture the beautiful green grass and colorful array of garden flowers that come as spring ends.
It takes a toll on your psyche. I find I am grateful for the routine that pulls me out of bed each morning. As a person who loves the outdoors, this inside stuff is getting very old. I think others are feeling the agitation as well. I start to hear of co-workers in tiffs over minimal issues. I cringe when I read the e-mail that says the local teacher's union will have a meeting at the end of the month. Don't they realize that none of us are in the right mind to rationally discuss contentious issues?
It never ceased to amaze me why the small church we used to attend in still colder northern Minnesota would have its annual business meeting late in March. Otherwise saintly parishioners would sit in the back pews ready to take aim at the pastor for trivialities that would have bothered none of them if the annual meeting took place early in January while the effects of the holidays were still keeping spirits bright. The drama of many an annual meeting was fueled by weary warriors who had nothing better to do during the previous two months except complain about how the church was being run.
I can relate, because during these bleak days it is more easy to see the faults in systems, institutions, and people. It takes work to count your blessings one by one. For me, I must face the doldrums by reminding myself that this too shall pass and try to focus on those more pleasant days to come.
It takes a toll on your psyche. I find I am grateful for the routine that pulls me out of bed each morning. As a person who loves the outdoors, this inside stuff is getting very old. I think others are feeling the agitation as well. I start to hear of co-workers in tiffs over minimal issues. I cringe when I read the e-mail that says the local teacher's union will have a meeting at the end of the month. Don't they realize that none of us are in the right mind to rationally discuss contentious issues?
It never ceased to amaze me why the small church we used to attend in still colder northern Minnesota would have its annual business meeting late in March. Otherwise saintly parishioners would sit in the back pews ready to take aim at the pastor for trivialities that would have bothered none of them if the annual meeting took place early in January while the effects of the holidays were still keeping spirits bright. The drama of many an annual meeting was fueled by weary warriors who had nothing better to do during the previous two months except complain about how the church was being run.
I can relate, because during these bleak days it is more easy to see the faults in systems, institutions, and people. It takes work to count your blessings one by one. For me, I must face the doldrums by reminding myself that this too shall pass and try to focus on those more pleasant days to come.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)