Plan B

This morning, Mary Hannah will walk into a classroom and assume her place as an elementary education major.

It’s not what she dreamed she’d be doing. By her reckoning, she should be sitting for her board exams next spring, proving her competency in catching babies, not slogging through pre-requisites in the quest for a teaching certificate.

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Roller coaster day

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One of my favorite all-time movies is Parenthood, the old Steve Martin flick. I enjoyed it as a teen, and as a parent, I have new appreciation for the twists and turns of family life. I especially understand the Grandma’s roller coaster analogy now that I have a few more miles on my tires; life really is up and down and up and down.

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Eager

Right now, I’m sitting in Bryan College’s still library. It’s Spring Break, so the campus is empty except for a handful of staff members charged with duties that aren’t suspended in the absence of classes. It’s a beautiful, well-lit library on a cozy campus. It’s my first time here and frankly, I can see why, after visiting this past fall, my husband spoke so highly of it. It’s beautiful, yes. But it’s peaceful, too. Everywhere, the motto “Christ Above All” is sprinkled– and feels real.

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Perfectly imperfect

Dear lady standing next to me at the public bathroom sink,

Yes, I have an issue, and it’s called OCD. The chemical misfires in my brain tell me that if I don’t wash my hands exactly as prescribed by professionals, my hands will be contaminated with all sorts of nastiness from touching the stall room doors– to the detriment and deterioration of my personal health.

Of course, you realize this too, that’s why you’re washing your hands. But you don’t do it with the same urgency, the same conviction, the same desperate scrubbing motions and the “Oh man, I lost count there, am I at two minutes or only one and half?”

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Babita’s song

Hope deferred makes the heart sick,
But desire fulfilled is a tree of life. —Proverbs 13:12

We are waiting right now. Waiting, again.

Seems like so much of life is lived in the grey area of leaving one abiding place while waiting for the door to swing wide on the next. I feel it more keenly now, as I look into the not-so-far future and see that our family is moving into a season of transitions, of children striking out and finding new places to call home. We are in the waiting phase of anticipated goodbyes and yet, we hope for one more hello.

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