The Fork In My Road

Have you ever looked back at your life and suddenly noticed a subtle fork in the road that you didn't even recognize at the time? A small part of me has been wondering what it might have looked like if I has chosen a different prong of the "fork". 

Tomorrow is another First Day of School for many of us. My preschool classroom is all set up for a new group of 4 year olds to arrive. My teaching partner and I are so ready! The texts have been pinging back and forth all summer and we are anxious to see if all of our fun ideas will work with this new crew. 

Tomorrow morning will be my third year back to teaching preschool since leaving it to raise my kids and join my husband in 30 years of full-time ministry life. 

I kept my hand in early education by working as a substitute teacher for three preschools in our city for a few years. But babysitting plans became too complicated and stressful, so I sadly took my name off the sub lists. 

Working with little ones has always been important to me, even in ministry life. Children's church, midweek Kids Clubs and teaching Sunday School began long before I was married and continued far into our ministry.  

And now here I am, back in a colorful classroom and wishing I had never left. My mind wonders what it could have looked like if I had stuck with it. 

There were other reasons for leaving. I suffered from severe headaches in those days and we all know that head pain and little kids are not a great combination. But still I wonder.

Could I have taught preschool while my boys were in school? Instead of being the pastor's wife who obsessed over Women's Ministry Committees, Bible Studies and making sure the Nursery Helpers were arriving on time? 

There was an optional prong to the fork that I did not even consider at the time. Could I have been the pastoral wife with another job? It actually sounds pretty nice from this end of the fork. 

I loved working with college age students for the last 10 years of our ministry and I would not trade that for anything. But even those years could have been shared with a preschool job a few days a week. 

Maybe all of these wonderings about this prong or that prong are simply a sign that the current prong is just right for right now. 

I love this preschool job so much! I am finding a great deal of fulfillment, challenge and just the right amount of tension to keep life very interesting! I get to be creative and silly and my co-workers and Director have become great and true friends. 

We are The Owl Class!

I was a caterpillar who became a butterfly and now I am an owl. Owls are known for their wisdom that comes with age, so there you go. I'm wise enough to know that looking back with regret is a lose-lose situation, so I will not do that. 

If you are a young mom who feels stuck or you find yourself wondering if putting your career aside was a mistake, I want to tell you that the fork you are balancing on right now is not permanent. 

Surprises are ahead of you. Even if you are a crazy detailed planner like me. I had no clue I would ever come back to early education as a job. For years I moved an extremely awkward file box of preschool supplies, songs and crafts from one home to the next, never wanting to let go of all that work. Finally I put it in the garbage tote one night while doing an extreme purge-cleaning. I thought that part of my life experience was over.

Surprise! Now my laptop is overflowing with all the info I need, no problem. :) 

I would not change the path I chose. The fork in my road took me to some wonderful places and I met amazing people who still mean a great deal to me. Of all the cutlery in the world, I love mine and I have no regrets. 

Susie
aka Ms Susie

He Is Not Dead

I looked across the lunch table in my preschool class and noticed a little girl with tears streaming down her cheeks. She was quiet, but obviously something or someone had upset her. 

I knelt beside her in the middle of the noisy chattering group of 4 year olds and asked why she was crying. She pointed to her friend sitting next to her and said, "She said that Jesus is gonna die on Easter! I don't want Easter to come!" 

I hugged her and said that her friend made a little mistake and that on Easter, Jesus is alive and that's what Easter is all about. About Jesus being alive and not dead at all! By this time the whole class was quiet and listening to me. She smiled and said she felt better now. 

Our preschool is a Christian school but we don't talk about Bible stories much in my class. I did make an exception this last week though. I told a story of a little girl with brown hair, brown eyes and freckles on her nose named Susie. Our Circle Time true story was about the Sunday many years ago when the little brown haired girl came running and shouting into her parents arms in a church sanctuary, yelling, "Mommy, he's alive, he's alive!!"

My mother told me this story about when I was only 3 or 4 and a Sunday School teacher must have somehow got the message across to us little ones with clarity. I don't remember this moment, but I love it. 

Today my main big thought is simply that He is alive. Jesus is alive! I will admit that I do not feel Him as clearly as I did years ago, but I still know and believe that He is alive in me. 

When so much around us is negative news, this is the good news. The BEST news. I am sitting here in my living room feeling weepy, listening to Keith Green and 2nd Chapter of Acts ( I am old, you guys. Whatever). 

In a few minutes I will get in my little yellow truck and drive around the corner to the sweet Methodist church behind my house. I will bask in the gentle music and smiling faces. I will rejoice in the knowing that He is alive. 

Happy Easter y'all. (Yeah, I said Y'all.)
Susie

UPDATE: I am home from the Easter service and this time it was my turn to be the quiet one with tears streaming down her cheeks. But my tears were an overflow of thankfulness for my Jesus. He knows me, loves me and is alive today. In the people around me and in the swaying trees in my backyard that I am looking at just now as I sit in my yard and tap these keys. 

Once again I choose belief, I choose faith, I choose to trust the unseen; illogical and fanciful though it may seem. I choose Him. It is so simple and so complicated. But here I am choosing faith. 

Here I am quietly shouting, "He is alive. He is alive!" 

Because I Want the Nativity Scene Up There, That's Why

Our TV is blasting The Grinch and my family is watching with fresh eyes as we giggle at my 3 year old grandson taking it all in with a silly grin on his face. He is nestled under his mommy's arm and my son is in a rocker with our granddaughter, born just 19 days ago. 

I know you'd like to see that picture. But tonight I want to tell you about a moment a few days ago, in the kitchen you see above. I was on tiptoe with one foot on the top step of that step ladder and the other on the counter. My arms were stretched high above my head trying to keep my fingers on a heavy ceramic pitcher. You can see it below. 

Here's the situation; A collection of pretty bottles and pitchers decorate the top my kitchen cabinets all year long. But in December they must come down so I can display my favorite Nativity scene up there. They must.

Husband hates these important projects each year...but it simply must be done. It must. Not that he is up there doing it. He hates that I am risking my neck and insists that I only do it when he is home. So he can call 911 I guess. 

So this year I made myself wait for his day off to make the big switch. The house was quiet and he was watching a PBS documentary with his eyes closed while I was discovering that the heavy pitcher was not moving easily. Maybe it was the hot, humid summer we just went through or maybe it was the greasy dust above the stove area, but for some reason the pitcher was stuck. 

I pulled and it tipped and I yelled "HONEY!! I need you!!" He kept me from falling and I was able to hand him the sturdy pitcher safely. All ended well. Nothing was shattered, human or ceramic. 

December has a way of reminding me of my mom, every single year. She was one of those crazy-for-Christmas ladies that everyone talks about...and I keep on seeing her in myself, my home and my words. I fought it at first, but what is the point? 

Now I think about my mom and her bigger than life, much bigger than anything I would do, holiday decorations and projects. And I know that my dad was her muscle to make a lot of the magic happen. I am pretty sure he was shaking his head in wonder and worry over her shenanigans at Christmas time too. He will be here with us for Christmas this year, I will have to ask him about that.

My mom with my son, her first grandchild.

Me with his son, my first grandchild. 

          I know...sigh.          

Susie, Grandma, writer, preschool teacher, crazy Christmas lady.