Contagious

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Morning car duty, the day after our first elementary choir rehearsal, one of my favorite fourth graders hopped out of his car with a big smile. Running over he gave me a big hug and chimed, “Choir was so much fun yesterday! I told my mom and dad that you almost cried when we sang Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.” A tad embarrassing but he was right-I did get a little teary.

Same day-first hour-fifth grade. I showed students one of the new puppets I had ordered for my younger classes. Just delivered and so cute! The students smiled and I heard some awwws-that’s all it took. I began telling them how much the little kids love the puppets and how I wished I’d had puppets when they were in kindergarten and first grade.

A fifth grade boy spoke up, “Mrs. Morris, I’ve never seen an adult so excited about puppets before!” Well, guess what? I soon had twenty-something fifth graders asking to play with puppets. Of course I said yes.

What a sight! The biggest kiddos in the school using the cutest animal hand puppets, singing along to Carrie Underwood’s The Champion. Priceless!

Then it hit me! The enthusiasm of a fourth grade boy had been contagious.

There was a positive attitude domino effect at work. This cycle continued for most of the day, the most encouraged I’ve felt about my teaching so far this year. Don’t misunderstand, not all days work this way. I’m not attempting to paint a “perfect harmony little cherubs singing” portrait. Nor am I anywhere close to being Julie Andrews in the Sound of Music.

Truthfully, it took the excitement of a student to adjust my attitude. And if this one student has the power to do that for me, how many students and colleagues should I be able to influence?

Attitudes are contagious. And I can either spread one that is positive and encouraging or one that is negative and frustrating. Here’s to having an attitude others want to catch, not one they try to avoid.

When My Opinion Doesn’t Matter

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Music has the ability to both unify and separate.  Think about it-how many times has one single song been used to represent and bring unity to a social movement?  “We Shall Overcome” & “We are the World” immediately come to mind. The opposite is also true.  History tells us of music such as Stravinsky’s “Rite of Spring” causing rioting in the streets of Paris during its debut.

What causes these polar opposite occurrences? Opinions!  We all have plenty of those.  What we like and don’t like.  What we think sounds good or sounds bad.  Oh, how we love to share, myself included. The problems occur when respect is absent from the sharing of said opinions.

At the beginning of the school year, I have discussions with my students concerning music and respect.  After listing many different styles of music, students have the opportunity to share their favorite.  I remind them that we always show respect for our friends opinions. We also talk about how boring it would be to hear the same music all the time, and the importance of giving something new a chance.

As I considered this respectful sharing of opinions, my thoughts moved from the classroom to the church.  There is definitely a wide variety of styles and opinions concerning music in this realm. Having played piano in church since I was a little girl, I have experienced these styles and opinions on many occasions.

Hymns such as “Amazing Grace” and “What a Friend We have in Jesus” immediately take me back to my childhood.  They provided a strong foundation for expressing my faith.  As a teen I remember playing and singing the chorus “Pass it On” and listening to Keith Green’s “Songs for the Shepherd.” There was truth and power in this new style of song.  Although different from the hymns, their meanings were the same.  As an adult, songs such as “I Can Only Imagine” by Mercy Me and “Praise You in this Storm” by Casting Crowns provided comfort and reassurance during difficult times of grief when I questioned my faith.

Sadly, I have also witnessed the polarizing effect music can have in the church.  As some choose to dig their heels in for tradition, unwilling to consider anything new, the result is often a weakened message.  On the opposite side, others become so engulfed with constantly seeking something new, the message doesn’t have time to sink in or provide the intended encouragement.

So what’s my conclusion?  Personally, I find security and strength in the old, while experiencing comfort and renewed energy in the new.  I believe there’s room for both.  But those are my opinions.  If I lose focus, forgetting the reason for the music, then my opinions really don’t matter.  Truthfully, in this situation I’m not sure they really matter anyway.

“Sing to the Lord a new song; sing to the Lord, all the earth.”  Psalm 96:1

“…speak to one another with psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit.  Sing and make music from your heart to the Lord, always giving thanks to God…”  Ephesians 5:19-20

 

Choir-It’s Elementary

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If the words “Elementary Choir” cause you feelings of anxiety, welcome to my world!  I’m teasing, mostly, but I do find it challenging.  Choir was part of my high school and college life, but most of the time I ended up behind the piano.  That is where I’m most comfortable.  I’ve never felt as confident with my singing, hence my hesitation with directing a choir.

Today was the first day of after-school choir.  We meet once-a-week for about forty-five minutes.  In case you’re wondering, that’s a long time to keep twenty-five 4th and 5th graders engaged and singing, especially after a full day of school.  We are all tired, and ready for a snack and a nap.  Well, I’m ready for a nap.  Not to mention being hot and sweaty from afternoon car duty…

As I walked back to my classroom to begin practice, I could hear kids saying, “Here she comes!”  And it wasn’t a “better stop what you’re doing” warning.  It was more of a “Yay! It’s time for choir” comment.  The room was buzzing with energy and excitement.  Students helped set up chairs and everyone was seated quickly, ready to start.  I went to the piano and asked them to sing a simple song for me.  There was a risk they would consider my request babyish, but I needed to hear how they sounded.

“Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” has never sounded so glorious!  I am not exaggerating!  Not only were their voices sweet and light, I could tell they really loved to sing.  My smile could not have been any wider.  After some up and down “ah-ah-ah” and “ha-ha-ha” vocal warm-ups, I asked them to fill out a short choir survey.  I’ll get back to that shortly.

After the survey we learned the first part of our choir theme song, “Friend Like You.”  One of the verses says, “I know with friends like you, friends that I can talk to, we can take on the world.  There’s nothing we can’t do.”  So simple, yet so powerful.  And once again, their sweet voices singing this timely message made my heart happy.

We wrapped up practice, everyone went home, and I packed up my computer.  Oh, and those choir surveys as well.  Once home, I decided to read them.  Oh my goodness…their answers.  Most said they love to sing and want to sing better.  Some admitted being shy or embarrassed.  And then there was this…”I sing to my siblings at bedtime.”  Remember, we are talking about 4th and 5th graders.  I can’t imagine anything more precious.

Today changed my outlook for choir.  This self-described awesome group of kiddos-who just want to hang out with their friends and sing-encouraged this exhausted, in-search-of-motivation teacher.  Because of their attitudes, I find myself looking forward to next week.  I will listen to those sweet voices, and teach them the rest of our theme song.  Hopefully their enthusiasm will spill over, giving this tired teacher renewed energy.

Maybe elementary choir is not so elementary after all.

 

Layers

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Clouds are fascinating.  Since I was a little girl, they always captured my attention.  Maybe it’s the sky in general.  After all, blue is my favorite color, especially when in contrast with white, fluffy clouds.  When I was younger, a variety of images would easily appear in the clouds.  Now finding the pictures is more of a challenge to my imagination.  Oh, I still look, but there is a certain amount of effort required.

These days I tend to notice the many different types and combinations of clouds.  I love how they paint the sky in layers, with contrasting colors and motion, sometimes allowing small patches of blue to appear in the background.  These paintings don’t last long, morphing with the blowing  wind.  Photos rarely capture their true beauty.  Paintings may come close, but part of the beauty is in the movement, the gradual changes.

In many ways, life can be like those layers of clouds.  Sometimes it’s the grey, swirly ones that get our attention.  How will we face the coming storm?  Those sheets of rain off in the distance? Then we see the still, almost motionless layers underneath providing calm.  The storm is not erased, but the ability to get through becomes visible.  If we continue watching, witnessing the continuous changes, that patch of blue or ray of sunlight will soon appear.

Hopefully we also experience those fluffy cloud days, light and ordinary.  Nothing unexpected, time to rest in moments of shade. Or the wispy, almost laughing clouds, reminding us of a funny story or memory.  That kind of memory that makes us smile. Those are the days that revive us, giving strength for when the storm clouds reappear.  We know they will return, that is life.

Although I may never be able to capture the beauty of those clouds blanketing the sky, I will keep looking.  Watching for those moments of light and color to break through.  Reminded that life continues, moving with the swirls, through the storms, to the calm.

Layers upon layers upon layers… 

clouds

Champion

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What is a champion?  The word often brings thoughts of athletes, winning the ultimate game.  Webster’s definition includes warrior, fighter, defender, one fighting for the rights of others, and lastly the winner of a competition.  Although I like the order of those descriptions, there is much more to this idea of being a champion.  Or at least there should be…

Do I think of myself as being a champion in my role as wife? Mom? Teacher? Friend?   Truthfully, no.  But what if I did?  After all, each role is important and has the power to influence and encourage my family, friends, students, and community.  What if I consistently worked hard at improving my skills in each role?

The official music video for Carrie Underwood’s song “The Champion” (feat. Ludacris) does a beautiful job of expressing the broadness of this word.  Included in the lyrics are invincible, unstoppable, unshakable-mixed with images of hard work, honesty, integrity, and sacrifice.  People from all walks of life, facing every kind of challenge imaginable, working hard,  persevering.

I love watching my students’ reactions to this video.  Of course, the song is energetic and exciting.  They love to sing along.  When I ask what people they notice, the answers are all over the place-football player, swimmer, surfer, soldier, someone with cancer, a person with prosthetic legs-you get the idea.

What they don’t usually notice, however, are the students, teachers, parents-doing everyday things.  They are students.  As I like to remind them, doing school is their job.  But do they consider themselves champions in that role of being a student?  This is not a naturally occurring thought for them-or for us as parents and teachers either I’m afraid…

It’s never too late for a new mindset, right?

So where to begin?  The answer will be different for each of us.  For me personally, maintaining motivation is a constant struggle.  Lack of sleep, feeling tired, possibly getting sick-anxiety levels begin to rise leading quickly to negative thoughts-I don’t think I can keep doing this, am I a good teacher, have I been a good mom-a rapid, downward spiral pulls me away from the much-needed motivation.

Sometimes the spiral slows with a prayer, a deep breath, a confession of feelings to a trusted friend. Other times it requires tears, and possibly a nap.  Thoughts begin to refocus. A successful lesson, an encouraging word from a colleague, and a reminder that what I do has value, and therefore requires hard work.

Eventually, the search for motivation begins all over again, and I look for ways to make changes and improvements in my chosen roles. And who knows? Maybe there will be that moment where I feel like a champion.

Even better–maybe someone who crosses my path will feel like a champion.

 

Plans

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Teachers love the word plan.  Lesson plans, sub plans, plan time-each have an important place in our school days, weeks, months, years…sometimes our bests laid plans go awry.  Then there are those rare moments when the simplest of plans exceed our expectations.

This was one of those days.

Freddie the Frog and his adventures on Treble Clef Island are breathing new life into my K-2nd grade classes.   (See earlier post-The Innocence of Imagination.) The plan for today sounded simple, and came with very little explanation.  I was actually nervous that I hadn’t added something, afraid it wouldn’t take enough time. Students were going to learn how to create stories using barred instruments such as xylophones by having the story characters, Freddie and his elephant friend Eli, talk back and forth to each other.

Let me just say, having kindergartners play xylophones can be a daunting task.  Imagine twenty-something of them having to wait their turn, holding mallets, making sure the mallets only touch the instruments…enough said.  But I really have to brag on them.  They did such a great job!

We brainstormed before moving to instruments, creating conversations between Freddie and Eli.  Everything from “Do you want to play?” “Yes I do!” to “Would you like some waffles?” “That sounds great!”  Each class came up with at least four different question/answer phrases, their very own ideas.  I spoke the words in rhythm, they echoed, then we repeated the activity on the instruments.

We played, we laughed, we created…I was both energized and exhausted all at the same time.  My plan is to do it again tomorrow with a different set of kiddos.  Will it work exactly the same?  Possibly, but probably not.  And that’s okay.  Tomorrow is a new day.

 

 

 

 

The Simple Things

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This morning I was running late for church.  Normally I arrive at least ten minutes early so I can double-check my piano music-make sure all the corners are turned up, everything is in the correct order-then I have a minute to breathe.  Well, today that routine was completely thrown off.

As I quickly walked in, I knew I had to skip my music checking system and rush upstairs to the choir room for warm-up.  Of course, they had already started so I sleeked in and quietly sat down at the piano.  While playing their vocal exercises, I found myself taking deep breaths, trying to calm the anxiousness that came from being completely out of balance.

As we headed downstairs to rehearse with the orchestra, the director spoke with kindness, expressing that she also was having a rough morning.  Knowing someone else was willing to admit that they felt off-their-game helped my tension begin to fade.  I felt a little better.

Walking toward the piano to prepare for the service, I noticed a note card sitting where my music would go.  Hmm… What is that?  Is it meant for me?  Who placed it there? Questions which remain unanswered.  Yet it was exactly what I needed at that very moment.  A simple note of encouragement-Joshua 1:9 and “Do good.”  I smiled and felt confident in the task ahead.

Reflecting over these seemingly simple acts-kind words from someone who acknowledged my stress and a sweet note from a stranger-I began to think about how many times I miss the chance to do the same for someone else.  It really doesn’t take much to brighten someone’s day. But it does require me to look past myself and pay more attention to those who cross my path.

Easier said than done I know-but a goal for the coming week.

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House to Home

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Our family has lived in our current home for fifteen years.  Kids were nine, seven, and three when we moved in.  Prior to that move we had lived in four different houses in three different cities, and two different states.  I remember feeling so relieved to be settled.

As someone who spent the first seventeen years of my life (until I left for college) in the same house, all of our moves were challenging.  I worried about how the kids would handle each new place.  Would they make friends easily?  Would I?  Of course, we all adjusted in our own way.

This house has truly become home.  It’s where our kids grew up.  So many memories.  For example, my concern that Ryan would fall down the stairs.  He was so little when we moved in, and the kids bedrooms were all upstairs.  As it turned out, the concern should have been for me!  I was the first one to bounce down the stairs on my bottom.

Although there was the time Robert tumbled down the stairs.  Apparently Robert, Rachel, and Ryan were playing the game “follow your siblings directions while wearing a sleeping bag over your head.”  I’m sure you’ve all played that one before!  Some friendly advice; make sure the sibling giving directions knows their right from their left…

Many of the memories involve celebrations-and food.  Saturday morning pancakes, Sunday night Chinese take-out, Dad’s burgers on the grill, my chocolate chip cookies, yellow cake with chocolate frosting. Birthday parties, holiday dinners with extended family, graduation parties-so many things to celebrate.

Well…things are about to change.  We currently have a high school senior and a college senior, and an already moved out and employed teacher.  We know from experience these next few months will fly by.  And though our nest won’t be immediately empty, that is the direction we are rapidly heading.

Gart and I have talked many times about preparing for this next stage in life.  He would even joke and tell the kids we were going to buy a tiny house or move to a loft apartment downtown.  Neither of those is going to happen, but we are preparing to buy another house and sell this one.

Right now my thoughts are mostly in the details-time frame, moving boxes, etc.  But they  unexpectedly drift and I find my eyes welling with tears.  This happened while driving away from the home we eventually decided to buy.  It’s a beautiful home, warm and cozy.  I am excited.  So why was I crying?

Change is like that.  Even when the change is positive, it still comes with growing pains.  Right now my growing pains involve how my role as a parent is changing.  Since the majority of my parenting years took place in this house, leaving it will be emotional.

Sometimes when I’m at home alone, our once busy house feels like an empty shell.  I’m thankful for the flood of memories that fills the empty spaces.  Just as our family established traditions and made memories here, I must trust we will do the same in our new house.  And as old memories travel with us and mix together with the new,  a transformation will take place-one that will turn house to home.

Songs and Faces

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I love the way one single song can bring a flood of memories to my mind.  I experience this phenomenon quite often.  The memory may be an event, a feeling, a person…today it was a specific group of people.

These particular individuals happen to be talented musicians. It was my privilege, playing music with them at many a Sunday service in times past.  Circumstances have changed, taking some of us in different directions, to different places. But there was something special about the time we worked together, rehearsing hours each week preparing for Sunday services.

I’ve been playing piano in church since I was a little girl.  We won’t do the math-trust me, that’s a long time! Having taken some time away to rest and refocus, I recently began playing again.  Though the rest was much needed, the return feels like a visit with an old friend.

That brings us to today.  Currently I participate in a traditional service-piano, organ, choir, orchestra.  However, this particular service was different, a beautiful combination of modern and traditional. One of the modern songs was “Great I Am.”

I was excited to see it on the set list. Hearing it at rehearsal last week was like a breath of fresh air and an encouraging memory all wrapped into one.

”I want to be near, near to your heart.  Loving the world and hating the dark.”

This morning as we sang those words, the memories flooding my mind were faces. How I miss those faces.  Although things are not the same, those experiences stay with me wherever the journey leads.  And I continue to discover just how much moments spent with this amazing group of people made a lasting impact on my life.

The Rest of the Story

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I have already shared events surrounding the birth of our first child, Robert, in two separate blog posts-Thankful and The Struggle for Control.  You would certainly think those events provided enough excitement for one pregnancy…but that was before he actually arrived.

One month had passed since our car accident.  My cracked ribs were beginning to heal, and I was ready to meet our baby boy.  Despite reassurances from the doctors that he was fine, my worry would not completely disappear until we actually saw him.  So a date to induce labor was set.

Gart and I arrived at the hospital early on December 1, 1994.  All checked in, the process began.  Doctors, nurses, monitors, IV…contractions. He would most likely arrive sometime before midnight.  That’s what they thought-but they thought wrong. Midnight came and went.  I was in active labor, but something wasn’t right.  Of course, this was our first baby, so what did we know?!

At some point during the late night/early morning, the doctor came in and things changed quickly.  Apparently, she should have been called much earlier.  Once she arrived, the whole room transformed. Suddenly it was full of additional medical personnel-a neonatology team, nurses.  Lighting in the room was adjusted, and the mood became extremely serious.

My mom and mother-n-law had been with us through the entire labor process.  But as the room began to transform, they were asked to wait out in the hall.  So they did.

We often see childbirth portrayed as an intense experience followed by this beautiful first moment.   A pink, crying baby is handed to the new mom.  She’s crying and the strong, supportive dad is leaning over-everyone is smiling and eternally happy.  Photos capture the moment, assuring it will never be forgotten.

When Robert was finally born, I can remember waiting…waiting to hear him cry.   Doctors and nurses were busy doing their jobs and there was nothing we could do but wait.  There was a flurry of activity and none of it sounded good. It felt like an eternity.  Then finally, a cry.  The sweetest, tiniest little cry.

A nurse brought him over so we could see him-not hold him-only for a few seconds.  He was pale, almost translucent, but that sweet face.  I can close my eyes right now and still see that face.  There are no pictures from that moment. Time and the seriousness of the situation did not allow for pictures.  Just as quickly as we’d seen him, he was whisked out of the room.  Gart followed.

Our moms, still waiting in the hall,  did not know what was happening. They’d witnessed the influx of medical personnel and their quick exit with the baby, Gart following close behind.  He was stopped at the nursery.  The blinds were closed.  Now he had no idea what was happening with our sweet boy.

Returning to the delivery room to check on me, he was once again stopped at the door.  I had suffered third-degree trauma, and the doctor was with me.  Poor Gart, it’s a miracle we ended up having two more children.

Finally, I was in a room.  Family there.  Waiting to see Robert.  Four hours later, we held him for the first time.  An IV had been placed in the top of his little head.  He had lost a lot of fluid during the trauma of his birth but was going to be ok.  Once again, we were thankful.

There were birthday gifts and cake later that day in the hospital room.  Because not only was December 2, 1994, the birthdate of our son, Robert, it was also my twenty-seventh birthday.  A birthday I will never forget!

I think I can safely say that is the rest of the story.  At least for today!