Glitter shoes and a bright heart

I guess every person has their “thing.” My things are writing and all brightly colored organizational tools.

I’m beginning to think Nana’s thing is shoes.

I have never seen a little one get so excited about a new pair of shoes.

Recently, we went to the huge Flea Market in Canton to explore and buy plenty of things we probably could have lived without, except for a pair of shoes.

I turned a corner and there they were--glitter sneakers.

They sat glimmering in the sunlight on a table but what made it even better was when I picked them up, I was facing a smaller table with matching baby glitter sneakers.

Friends, I think that’s a sign.

My sweet mother-in-law is also a shoe girl, maybe that’s where Nana gets it from, purchased the shoes as gifts for both of us.

When I brought them home, I let Nana open the box all by herself.

I loved watching the joy she got as she realized “mama! Nana!” had the same shoes!

She slept in those shoes that night and has wanted to wear them every day since.

Yesterday, when I got us both in from school, I walked into my closet to change out of work clothes.

Nana walked right in behind me, my little shadow.

She pointed and said, “Doc? Doc! Doc!”

Doc is what she calls my dad, whom we talk to every afternoon on Facetime, so I assumed that’s what she wanted to do.

When I looked down, I realized she was pointing to my Birkenstock shoes, the same kind my dad wears every single day.

She very rarely sees his feet, and hasn’t seen him since we visited last month but I was shocked that she could pair a style of shoes with a person.

Watching her do this really gave me pause as I realized how much she’s paying attention to what’s around her. She loves looking just like Mommy and she’s watching what we do right down to our shoe choices.

How often have I watched her change a baby doll’s diaper or say “Good Girl!” any time she does something she thinks is good or pleasing? It all clicked as I stood in that closet--she’s mimicking what she sees.
My next thought was HOLY BANANAS I better pay more attention to what I’m doing!

Oh how this little one has turned into a parrot. She loves to repeat words, she watches what we do and comments on our actions, and she even mimics us with her own toys.

This got me thinking of what she sees versus what I want her to see.

I want her to see me pray. I want her to see me love others. I want her to see me holding hands with her daddy so knows how friends should treat others and how men are supposed to treat their wives.

I want her to see goodness, kindness, happiness.

I want her to also know how to handle sad and dreary days.

I want her to want to be like Mommy because Mommy is a good person and set a good example.

I want her to be able to follow in footsteps that guide her straight to Christ. So, here’s to lacing up those glitter shoes and taking the right steps for all of those that are watching us.

That time Jesus didn't forgive

I once read a story about Jesus.

As Jesus was walking through a town in Galilee he came across a jail. Even though the Lord knew what the prisoners were guilty of, He asked the apostles why these men were jailed.

“They have committed the greatest of sins, my Lord,” answered one of them.

“What have these men done? Have they stolen? Have they over taxed or beaten you? Have they torn down the walls of a temple? All of these are sins to be forgiven. Who are you to judge these men?”

One of the apostles, Simon-Peter said, “Lord, these are sinners against children. For these men were jailed for torturing children and infants. They await death while in these walls.”

Jesus said, “It has been written and so shall be fulfilled, those who harm the Lord’s children harm the Lord. These men are no longer loved by the Lord and cannot be saved. They will long wander the lonely hills of darkness. Only will they know my name in death.”

Did I fool you?  I bet I fooled some of you.

If I didn’t, and you’re scratching your head at the reaction Jesus had to this situation, you have every right to be doing so.

This isn’t a Bible story. It actually never happened and I made it up for a group of my students as we study Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury.

If you haven’t read the book, the protagonist Montag is a “firemen” only in this future American society, books are outlawed and these firemen burn any that are found.  

The society is dumbed down and only finds entertainment in watching wall sized, interactive televisions, and one of the characters says this includes Jesus as “one of the 'family' now. I often wonder if God recognizes his own son the way we've dressed him up, or is it dressed him down? He's regular peppermint stick now, all sugar crystal and saccharine - when he isn't making veiled references to certain commercial products that ever worshiper absolutely needs.”

My students were shocked. How could these people be so stupid! We talked about this society that believes everything that is presented to them via the Internet to be true.

It was then the idea struck me. Would my sophomores do the same? Earlier in the year we played a game that I loved playing with my FUMC Sunday Schoolers in which I play a song describing a person in the Bible and they have to guess which person matches the song lyrics.

After doing this same activity with high school students I soon realized that not only did they not know the people of the Bible, they didn’t know the Old Testament from the New Testament.

Armed with this knowledge, I created my fake “Bible story” about Jesus.

I tried to stay true to the Biblical lingo as borrowed from other stories to make mine more realistic.

I worked hard to hide my grin when I handed out the “quiz” in which students were the analyze the story. No one asked a single question.

After revealing myself, we had great discussions about the importance of asking questions.

We’ve got to ask. We can’t just trust what we see on the internet. We even have to question those in the pulpit.

So, here's to the sophomores. Here’s to asking more questions. Here’s to reading your Bible. And here’s to that Bible story being fake, because how great a God do we have the offers forgiveness for all sins.

It's okay not to be a duck

As I continue to grow up I think I’ve really come to understand the importance of protecting my mental health, especially after Berit was born.
I don’t keep it secret that I struggled with postpartum anxiety and struggled with it alone for the most part. I had to learn how to speak up and speak out.
Luckily, I had a certain managing editor friend that lovingly told me I needed to speak to my doctor.
Since then, I’ve focused on not allowing toxic relationships ruin me.
But man is it hard.
Why is it so easy to tell a rude stranger right where they can go but when it’s our own friends or family member, someone we should be comfortable with, we agonize over what to say?
When is it okay to step away from a toxic family member? A sister, a cousin, even a parent?
Living in the south we are taught as very young children to mind our manners even at the expense of our hearts.
Mind you manners, cross your legs, dry up your tears, and be on your best behavior.

However, and please don’t hate me for saying this, sometimes it’s OK to not speak to people — even if they’re our elders.
It’s never OK, of course, to be hateful. That’s not what Jesus has taught us and what we should spread to others.
But I truly believe it’s OK to walk away from people that keep you from having that relationship you need with Jesus because your heart is constantly filled with anger.
I don’t want Berit to be conditioned to thinking that being in an emotionally abusive relationship is OK, if they are related to you.

Be respectful, be kind, but you absolutely do not have to be tolerant.
It’s so easy to teach her these things but so much harder to teach them to myself.
I recently experienced a situation in which I knew I needed to speak up. I was being taken advantage of, and while I don’t think this person meant to do so, it was still happening and still hurting.
I was honestly so afraid to address my concerns that I was willing to continue to allow myself to hurt just so I didn’t lose this person.

With some encouragement from that same pushy editor, I spoke my truth about what was bothering me.
Thankfully, it was an amazing conversation and we are now closer than ever.
I was able to address a situation and stand my ground. It’s amazing the impact saying, “this truly hurts my feelings” can do.

As children we’re taught to speak up and let someone know when they’re hurt our feelings but when do we unlearn this? When do we reach that level as adults when we’re supposed to let it roll like water off a duck’s back?
Sometimes I don’t want to be that duck!
What if I want to be the duck that bites you on the rear and chases you back to the car?

Unfortunately I’m also facing a situation with someone that I know won’t end well. They’ll forever be in my life but I’m learning I must limit interaction with them to preserve my own mental health and relationship with Christ.

I’m learning to let that be OK; to be a different kind of duck.
So, here’s to trying to not be the duck that lets it slide, but also not be the duck that attacks people.
Maybe I can be the duck that walks in the other direction, away from the toxic waters that can harm me.
Here’s to not letting others make you go “quackers.”

This column first appeared in The Bolivar Commercial.

Inkling by Kenneth Oppel

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Release date: Nov 6, 2018
Enter Inkling. Inkling begins life in Mr. Rylance's sketchbook. But one night the ink of his drawings runs together--and then leaps off the page! This small burst of creativity is about to change everything.
Ethan finds him first. Inkling has absorbed a couple chapters of his math book--not good--and the story he's supposed to be illustrating for school--also not good. But Inkling's also started drawing the pictures to go with the story--which is amazing! It's just the help Ethan was looking for! Inkling helps the rest of the family too--for Sarah he's a puppy. And for Dad he's a spark of ideas for a new graphic novel. It's exactly what they all want. 
It's not until Inkling goes missing that this family has to face the larger questions of what they--and Inkling--truly need.

There will be spoilers in this review. 

A quick summary:

The Rylance family is stuck. Dad's got writer's block. Ethan promised to illustrate a group project at school--even though he can't draw. Sarah's still pining for a puppy. And they all miss Mom. So much more than they can say.

From Goodreads. 

The Set Up:

We open with the cat. I immediately love Rickman, who is the first to discover Inkling. Because we can see this fun personality of the cat and we’re immediately introduced to this world where the thoughts of a cat are logical, I’m able to jump on board with a blob of ink coming off of the pages of a sketchbook. There was much world building necessary here, but the author creates a sense of place and I have no issue believing anything Rickman wants to tell me.

What stood out:

These characters are relatable to middle grade readers but at the same time, introducing them to ideas they might not see in their own everyday lives. For example, not every child has a sibling with Down Syndrome or even might know someone with Down Syndrome. Ethan describes his sister as, “Sarah had Down Syndrome, and there were lots of things that were still mysteries to her, like why you couldn’t just eat ice cream whenever you wanted.”

Sarah is a hilarious character and calls Rickman “Icklan” and wants Inkling to be a dog so badly she calls him Lucy.

Through Ethan’s love for his sister,  and her sweet yet silly nature, readers easily fall in love with her and learn about the many important and wonderful things people with Down Syndrome are blessed with. I feel it's incredibly important for middle grader readers to be exposed to characters that don't necessarily look like them or the people they are surrounded with. 

One particular section that stood out was, “Here was the thing about a Sarah hug. It was a real embrace. There was nothing half-hearted about it. Her soft arms folded around your neck, and she pressed her cheek against yours and smushed her body against you, and you felt like you’d just won the most amazing prize. And you couldn’t help grinning.” I love Sarah.

I also thoroughly enjoyed the illustrates placed throughout the book. Because this was an ARC, only some of those illustrations were visible, however all of the ones I could see were fun sketches much like what I imagine Mr. Rylance creating in his comics.

Several times throughout the book I made a note that Oppel described scary characters (Blotter) and scary situations in a way that kept me turning the pages in an anxious frenzy, but definitely wasn’t too much for a younger reader. Blotter is super creepy and bubbles with anger from eating way too many violent comic books. Inkling is afraid of him and so am I. 

Oppel brings these fears to life by giving both Blotter and Inkling the power to hurt our human characters in a very real way, cutting off their air flow. We learn in the beginning with Inkling covers Ethan’s face that the ink can cut off Ethan’s airflow. Inkling is of course sorry for hurting his friend but later, when Blotter is freed and they are trying to run away from him, this same thing happens, leaving readers on the edge of the page as we are left with “All he could think was, breathe, breathe. But he couldn’t.”

Discussion Topics:

The death of a parent
I appreciated the discussion of the death of a parent. Rather than is be a giant hug fest, Oppel allows his characters to experience grief in several ways. From Sarah's inability to understand, their dad's complete withdrawal into his self, and Ethan trying to fix everything, readers see grief they can identify with. 

Owning your decisions and doing the right thing
Even though Ethan and his dad could keep Inkling and Blotter to create books that would obviously bring them wealth, the family takes ownership for allowing Inkling to do some of their work. Both Ethan and his dad admit to their mistakes of cheating on homework and on book writing. It was refreshing to see characters realize their wrong doings and make amends. In the end, they also help others see the importance of not only owning your mistakes, but learning how to do something by yourself, a great lesson for middle grade readers. 

I won't spoil anymore but I will say I rate this book 4.8/5.

Have you read Inkling? I'd love to hear your thoughts!

To purchase Inkling go here!

To learn more about Kenneth Oppel and his awesomeness go here and here! 

This Mega House

Berit has a book called The Little House that we love to read before bed. It tells the story of Little House when it was built in the 1800s and up to the point when it was surrounded by skyscrapers. 

Little House is sad because it can’t watch the stars anymore and everyone rushes by. It also can’t smell the apple trees. 

Eventually, the great great great granddaughter finds Little House and because it was so well built she’s able to move it back to the country. 

Little House is happy again because it can enjoy the slow life. 

I get attached to my homes and like to think of them as Little House. 

When we moved from our tiny rental into our home on South Leflore we named it Mega House. 

It was huge! Just like me actually, because I was 7 months pregnant at the time. 

Our house belonged to the late Dorothy Shawhan, former Delta State English professor, author, and so many other wonderful titles. 

She held her last class of each semester on her screened in porch filled with plants. 

I took her for creative fiction and non fiction so those classes consisted of reading our work.

She was always encouraging, even when my writing was trash. 

I like to think of Mega House as quiet and calm during those days. 

It soaked in the stories told and the stories she wrote in her living room surrounded by books. 

It kept her warm and safe and comforted. 

Mega House was very well read. 

A few years after I graduated I had the opportunity to interview Ms. Dorothy in the living room of Mega House for Spotlight

magazine. 

She told me about her writing process and what she loved most when reading. 

She gave me an autographed copy of Lizzie and once again told me how much she enjoyed seeing my byline. 

After she passed, Mega House became available. 

At the time we weren’t able to buy a home so I watched as the for sale sign changed to sold. 

But then, with a baby coming way sooner than we were ready for, another for sale sign appeared in the yard of Mega House. 

We cried and prayed and toured and prayed and cried again. 

Eventually, Brett and I sat in the floor of Mega House, with not even close to enough furniture to fill it, and were giddy. 

It was unthinkable that we could own something so special. So amazing. 

I think Mega House stretched its wooden bones and woke up that day. 

It had much to be excited for with a new baby and new adventures. 

We painted and cleaned, swept, and laughed. 

I placed Lizzie on a stand in the dining room, a treasure to both myself and Mega House. 

I think Mega House laughed too, and showed that when the ginkgo tree once again produced bright yellow foliage after having been dormant since Ms. Dorothy left. 

Mega House was excited!

In the middle of the night it comforted a tired mom during nursing sessions. 

In the day it held strong to the sticky notes of prayer placed all over the walls for that same anxious new mom. 

Months later when little hands and feet began to explore the floors I like to think Mega House provided a little extra cushion for some of those falls. 

Mega House gave us our first Christmas, our first bath, our first steps. 

Mega House laughed as we held celebrations, danced, sang, and played. 

Mega House kept us safe when we were sick or scared, and recently gave us that same cushion when we fell to our knees in prayer during a difficult season in our lives. 

I’ve never done something as hard as packing up Mega House. 

I think Mega House cried along with me I packed up our memories, swept the floors, and ran my fingers across the place where my baby took her first steps for the very last time.

We went room to room and said goodbye to Mega House. 

We mentioned a favorite memory for each room and it wasn’t difficult to think of many reasons to smile in each and every area of our home. 

We sat on the porch and everyone cried when we closed the door to Mega House one last time. 

I know people say a house is not a home and what matters are the people, but after loving and living in Mega House I have to disagree. 

Mega House loved us too. 

Mega House laughed and played with us, it protected us, it listened to our stories. 

We left Mega House and moved into Fancy House— a newborn home that will grow with Berit through the years. 

While I look forward to the memories to come, pieces of our family member are here. 

One of the doors removed during renovations sits in the living room corner with a wreath. 

The brick we used to prop open the swinging kitchen doors is on a shelf in my bedroom. 

We won’t ever forget Mega House  

I’d like to believe Mega House won’t forget us either.