Home. Sick.

Sinus pressure, dizziness, cough and the overwhelming & constant feeling that I am going to sneeze keeps me home today. Sure I feel "well" enough to tough through the day, but working with medically fragile children has forced me to reconsider my position on the matter. After 13.75 hours of sleep and numerous vitamin C kick-those-germs-in-the-butt pills I am thankful for my recosideration (is that even a word?). Rest was needed as well as some quality time with my Dad. I went to his house on my way to the store, and ended up staying a few hours partly because I was feeling a little too dizzy to drive and partly because I was enjoying the company. My Dad and I don't get to see each other very often, he works nights. But it was good hanging out with him, eating chicken noodle soup, watching movies, and being babied. Even though I felt crummy it felt good to be his little girl for the afternoon.

Tomorrow I will go back to work and take on 11 kids, 10+ needy adults and boat loads of paperwork. All the while I will continually reminisce about my day to rest, hanging out with my Dad, and getting over this bug. Into the insanity I plunge, ready with my Sudafed and orange juice to take on the slobber covered kid fingers and goobery high-fives. Tonight I raise my glass of effervescence airborne to the 9 sick days I have remaining; the 9 more opportunities to totally forget about adult responsibility.

Sound of Silence

I came across this journal entry written during my time in Greece. Although I have many good memories of my time in Europe, this entry reminded me of the deep loneliness I felt during the times when Isaiah was busy at school all day. There were a few moments that I felt isolated: not knowing the language, no real way to get around (except by foot), and Isaiah in school. There were many times abroad that I felt challenged and pulled in ways I never would have expected. Anyway, it's late and I can't sleep so I thought I would share the entry with you...



April 21, 2006

It's not the sound of silence that deafens me, in fact all my senses are assaulted.
I hear motorcycles soar by
the taverna's blare welcoming music
distant church bells ring--demanding attention

I smell food as restaurants prepare for dinner
the salty sea breeze off the bitter wind
freshly baked goods-- making mouths water

I see freshly painted fishing boats
crystal and sparkling blue water
packs of friendly Greek dogs--sniffing out a bite to eat

I taste the lovely fruits from the market
the dry wine of Kefolonia
the olive oil in every entree served

No. It's not the sound of silence that deafens me....
It's the sound of my silence

Like a force, noise rocks my senses
Like a force, silence binds my once free spirit... me

No. It's not the sound of silence that deafens me,
it's the sound of my silence that deafens my spirits, my character, maybe even my soul.

Ahh... The Beginnings of Fall

My favorite time of year is when all the trees change colors to, vibrant, warm and welcoming shades. I love walking in the crisp air, leaves crunching beneath, as I take in the sights and sounds of busy little creatures preparing for the weather to come. It makes me want to curl up on the sofa with a cozy blanket and drink mint tea. Soups and stews soon become a common dinner or lunch time meal. And every walk or run outside is taken as if it will be the last before the rain starts. This season can't be taken for granted.

Fall begs me to reflect on the happenings of the year-- to re-asses my self, stance, postion, circumstance-- to see that I too can change, grow, renew. The tornados of the year have picked me up, stripped me off I all cling to and scattered the remnants for all to see. It's a humbling seeing my faults laid bare. Just as the trees shed layers, to prepare for the seasons ahead, I too shed my layers (although mine aren't as pretty as the colors of Fall). I choose the attributes I like, and leave behind the things that hold me down, darken my countenance and empty my spirits.

This season it too beautiful, to metaphorical, to full of good smells for me to let it pass. Fall is my time to break free and escape from the burdens. This season is my time to see God move through me just as he moves through nature-- first changing, sheding, and (after the storms pass) sweet new beginnings.