No RollOver Minutes

The Psalmist here is talking about the value of the minutes in a day. Some phone plans allow you to use the minutes unused in one billing period in the next. You may rollover your minutes. But with God:

Each morning God gives me exactly 1,440 minutes or 24 hours in which to live my life. There are no rollover minutes. As many things as I have to do, as much as I want to accomplish, it isn't possible to borrow from yesterday's unused minutes. That time is gone forever. Neither can I borrow from tomorrow's minutes. I have only 1,440 minutes or 86,400 seconds. That's it.

Here is Psalm 90:12 paraphrased:

The paraphrase speaks for itself.

So with the Psalmist, I ask God to teach me to number my days. I need to gain a heart of wisdom.

The Cat's in the Cradle
Artist: Harry Chapin

My child arrived just the other day
He came to the world in the usual way
But there were planes to catch and bills to pay
He learned to walk while I was away
And he was talkin' 'fore I knew it, and as he grew
He'd say "I'm gonna be like you dad
You know I'm gonna be like you"

And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man on the moon
When you comin' home dad?
I don't know when, but we'll get together then son
You know we'll have a good time then

My son turned ten just the other day
He said, "Thanks for the ball, Dad, come on let's play
Can you teach me to throw", I said "Not today
I got a lot to do", he said, "That's ok"
And he walked away but his smile never dimmed
And said, "I'm gonna be like him, yeah
You know I'm gonna be like him"

And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man on the moon
When you comin' home son?
I don't know when, but we'll get together then son
You know we'll have a good time then

Well, he came home from college just the other day
So much like a man I just had to say
"Son, I'm proud of you, can you sit for a while?"
He shook his head and said with a smile
"What I'd really like, Dad, is to borrow the car keys
See you later, can I have them please?"

And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man on the moon
When you comin' home son?
I don't know when, but we'll get together then son
You know we'll have a good time then

I've long since retired, my son's moved away
I called him up just the other day
I said, "I'd like to see you if you don't mind"
He said, "I'd love to, Dad, if I can find the time
You see my new job's a hassle and kids have the flu
But it's sure nice talking to you, Dad
It's been sure nice talking to you"

And as I hung up the phone it occurred to me
He'd grown up just like me
My boy was just like me

And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man on the moon
When you comin' home son?
I don't know when, but we'll get together then son
You know we'll have a good time then

So whose life will you touch with your allotted 1,440 seconds today? God, help us to make a difference.

NO ROLLOVER MINUTES

Condensed from this morning's sermon by Pastor Bob.

Slides are from his sermon. Used by spousal privilege!
Shamelessly plagairized!

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1.03.01

Lives of Quiet Desperation

Lives of quiet desperation

Teaching this year has been a struggle that I've mentioned in several blogs. But about three weeks ago God and I had a good conversation and we decided that if I'm to keep teaching, I have to conqueror my own fears and disappointments and concentrate on meeting the needs of students in my classroom.

One of the first things I did in that new frame of mind was begin to find those unnoticed students (the quiet ones, the pensive ones, the ones who create no difficulty, but neither do they seek help or attention) and simply say something nice to them, give them some extra attention. Since I teach Middle School, I teach 140-150 students every day (30 at a time in 40 minute periods) so it is a challenge to find time to talk to students other than "write this in your planner", "do you have your homework", "you'll find the answer in this paragraph," "yes, that's a verb," etc. Privacy is also an issue; we're constantly surrounded by dozens of other students so personal conversation is not easy.

But this week I collected journals to record grades. In one of the quietest student's journal she had written, "Mrs. Huerta talked to me!"

I remember that day, she was the last one out the door. She looked sad, quieter than usual and I just stopped her on the way out the door. "Are you okay? You look very sad today. Is there anything I can do to help you?"

She just shook her head "no", sort of smiled and moved on. I had forgotten about the incident until I read her journal. It had to have been written later, either in another class or the next day.

I've been working to make opportunities to connect with the kids, but I'll have to redouble my efforts.

Henry David Thoreau said, "Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them." Our challenge as Christians is to touch the lives of men and women so that they may find release to sing that song. Even other Christians.

Pastor Phylis (as a Public School Teacher!)

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1.03.01

Quote for the day

"Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.

And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears. And how else can it be?

The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.

Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven?

And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?

When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.

When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight."

Gibran's words from The Prophet:

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1.03.01

An afternoon at the park

What a lovely way to end a three-day weekend. The girls were able to spend the afternoon with me. We ate a late lunch, played Webkinz (for the uninitiated, that's the internet craze for the primary school child!), did some marker painting, climbed about in the park for as long as the mosquitoes would allow, spent some time on homework, had an ice cream and then called it a day.

Saturday was a bust for me. The anesthesia wore off my stitches and I was in a great deal of pain. I made the Saturday night Hispanic service, but did no pastoral duties. I was just there! Sunday was better. I woke up feeling refreshed and not much pain. I actually hurt more today than yesterday, but then I was more active with the girls too. It wasn't intolerable, just a nuisance. But the good thing is -- it's over. I keep wanting to sing a song with that title!! Mattea did make up a song today for her memorization. It worked well. She was happy practicing!

So ta-ta for now. It's back to the weekly grind tomorrow. NO! I mustn't approach a new week with that attitude. I shall be back to inspiring youngsters to greater heights tomorrow! How's that for a positive attitude??

:)

Pastor Phylis

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1.03.01

Family Secrets

Several situations lately have started me thinking in the direction of family secrets again. I had studied the topic several years ago, taught some lessons, and acquired a level of healing. Recent events have pointed me in that direction again.


I re-read parts of John Bradshaw's Family Secrets: What You Don't Know Can Hurt You. He expounds on the three laws of a disfunctional family (with secrets): Don't Talk; Don't Trust; Don't Feel.

Children raised in abusive or alcoholic families, families with hidden crimes or addictions, just to name a few of the potential "secrets," grow up believing there is something wrong with themselves. They have feelings that are allowed no expression, or outlet. Adults in the family are unreliable, not trustworthy, yet nothing is ever said or done about it. The situation is not even discussed. This kind of secrecy is toxic. (There are healthy secrets as well: children should not be pulled into marriage discord or adult sexual issues.)

One particular case study involved the young father of a family who had lost his job but didn't want to let his wife or children know. He kept his regular routine and left for work every morning, but his family began to fall apart. Even though his wife and children were unaware of the specific problem, they were reacting to their sense that something was very wrong.


Recently at a family reunion, some younger members of the family had the courage to speak about a family secret, in this case alcoholism, and the generational reaction and subsequent isolation. As a result of breaking the silence, new connections with family and a support system is evolving. But the story is far from over. Alcoholism doesn't evolve in a vacuum, and deeper secrets may need to be revealed. It's much like the peeling of an onion. But understanding and empathy are gained by following the trail and discovering generations of hurting humans who reacted in the only way they could tolerate.

Around me, some family systems are deteriorating in inexplicable ways. Could it be that a family secret is at the center of the crumbling foundation of human relationships? Family secrets leave wounded souls, broken hearts, may lead to a skewed power base, disrupted relationships, and unhealthy decision-making.

Yet, the answer is not the ever-popular reveal-all talk shows in which participants drop these bombs like B-52's coming in for the kill. There is a time, a place and a manner in which to address such issues.

In an interview with Randy Peyser, John Bradshaw, who is one of the foremost authors and recognized experts particularly in the fields of family systems, co-dependency, and addictions and recovery, talks about the process of discovering the roots of family disfunctions. "Suddenly, all these problems that you think are your own are seen in this larger light. It's hard to blame anybody for it. You see that your mother had it and your grandmother had it and then, god knows, how many generations before that had it. It makes us realize that we're up against something very profound."

If you want to read more, try these resources:

http://www.openexchange.org/archives/Classics/bradshaw.html

http://www.randypeyser.com/bradshaw.htm

http://www.fourgates.com/bradshaw.asp

Thoughtfully

Pastor Phylis

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1.03.01

All Much Better Now!

My 7 year old granddaughter used to say this when she was 4 or so after I'd kiss her "Owie": "All much better now!"

And that's me today. Surgery was at 10:30 this am. I was done by 11:15. He didn't have to use general anesthesia, just a local and a bit of a relaxer. Although at one point when that wand was hitting my rib, I was wishing for a general. I came home and slept from noon until about 4 or so. I'm a tad sore now, but doing well. I don't do well with strong pain pills, so I just have Keterol, but it's enough to relieve most of the pain.

This was the last of the surgeries...I go back in 10 days and have the stitches out. That's the end of re-construction. I will have a matching pair!! (I know...too much information!)

I was counting surgeries in the last 20 months. There have been more than I realized. First the liver biopsy, then the liver donation. Then the breast biopsy (a lumpectomy) followed by a left radical mastectomy ten days later. The mastectomy wasn't as long as the liver re-section, but they also did the basic reconstruction at that point, so it took a few hours. Then the port was inserted. (That's five, but who's counting?) Then came 6 months of chemotherapy. When my blood count was so low, the doctor ordered a colonoscopy because he was concerned that I also had colon cancer. I didn't, but the colonoscopy requires anesthesia and is technically a surgical procedure, not to mention that he removed some polyps. The next surgery was to take out the port. Then one to change the saline implant for a silicone one. Oh, wait! Those were done at the same time. So that makes seven. Then today makes eight (8), five (5) with general anesthesia, three with just locals and a relaxant. (And I'm wondering why my memory has some gaps??? I must have lost a few million brain cells just from the anesthesia!) I'm hoping for no more surgeries for a LOOOOOOOOONG time!!

But God is good. I have a wonderful support system. My husband could not possibly have been more helpful. From taking over household duties (the ones he didn't already do), to preparing me fresh squeezed orange slushes at 2 a.m. when I was so nauseous, to being sure I had someone to care for me whenever I needed help; he has been a trouper. My children, too, were available whenever I needed anything. Even my little granddaughters understood that I wasn't very energetic and were content to snuggle and watch movies with me when their natural inclination would have been for more activity. Then there was the church who provided food, sometimes personal care and lots of prayer. People at work pitched in too with food, flowers, cards, phone calls and prayer. It really is amazing the way people pulled together. God has been very good to me!!

Zoe, I'm really feeling very well tonight. Thanks for your prayers and your concern. I've been praying regularly for you, too! I'm headed over to music practice at the church in just a few minutes. (I'm tired, but I can handle an hour and a half of music practice.) I"ll take my camera and take some shots of us -- all in casual clothes -- practicing! (That's me with my head right under the exit sign!)

God bless!

Pastor Phylis

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1.03.01

Finally final

My last surgical procedure is tomorrow morning -- will be finished by noon. I'm already officially in remission. After this surgery, I will be complete -- remade! I didn't think I was terribly anxious about it. But....

Today I really over-reacted with a situation at work. I calmed down fairly quickly, but I was absolutely furious over some information that I hadn't bother to check out yet! Duh! I know better than to take a 13-year old's word for something. He wasn't even deliberately deceitful; he just gave me the final piece and I was missing the middle transaction. I only vented to a few friends via email and quickly sent a correction -- is there a correction to a vent??? Hmmmmm.

Anyway, anxiety. I let my students know that I was having a surgical procedure, that it was minor, that I was still in remission from cancer, etc. I reassured them I'd be back on Tuesday (Thank God! Monday is a holiday)

But one precocious young man says, "But Mrs. Huerta, can't things go wrong, even with a minor procedure?"

"Yes, it could" I responded. "But it won't".

And it won't. I know that. Still, the anxiety lingers. One more anesthesia, one more....

I really freaked when I went for the mammogram this year -- I think it was Saturday, the 18th. I know I waited until the last possible moment...and didn't even put it on my calendar on the computer!! I was so tense that when it was obvious by the technicians manner that everything was fine, I nearly burst into tears. (Last year, I knew just by her manner -- and the three thousand views of x-rays and the ultra-sounds that the radiologist kept sending her back for, that it was very bad news. Her manner was artificially bright, happy. "Well, we'll just take about 100 more routine views. The radiologist couldn't see the last 600 views very well." Right! She probably needs glasses.) I was so braced for the bad news that I nearly fell apart when it was good this year. I suppose mammograms will be tense for me from here until eternity. After all, that is how my cancer was discovered. I was clueless until then.

So...after tomorrow, I have only one more visit to the oncologist -- the hormone treatment may have to be adjusted --then checkups should be??? quarterly?? semi-annually? something like that, for awhile. Whew.

By the Grace of God, I dodged the bullet this time!

Pastor Phylis

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1.03.01