It's only been 4 years ...

... and yet technology is baffling me. It's not even the great, big technology items - I've stayed on top of laptops, iPads, and various Internet sites - it's the little things. I stood in the kitchen struggling to pull up the straw part of Livvi's brand new sippy cup, and it just wouldn't budge. I pulled and strained and twisted, and thought It's a kid's cup, for goodness sake! That's when my niece from the other side of the table says, "Push da button."

Maybe that was a stupid example, but it's all too common. I couldn't find the actual key part on the key to my parents' new car. You can't drive without that. My steering wheel is full of buttons to control the XM radio station, phone calls, and other options. Just like remotes! They have been my absolute least favorite item, and I have yet to conquer a single one. In church yesterday, instead of filling out the Attendance Card as I had done for 10 years, the text number appeared on the screen, and the entire congregation whipped out their smart phones to send in attendance. Oh yeah, and one brother uses his smartphone as a TV remote. Double whammy for me!

I am out of the loop, for sure! Bad or good, I just wasn't expecting this after only 4 years! :-)

Night to Shine

Scrubbed clean and shimmering, the 8th grade class of 2013 was all smiles in the spotlight, and I sat back with a sigh to take it all in. This was the evening they had only been anticipating for three years, or so they said. Dinner had been enjoyed by all, even the deliciously secretive baby photos their parents had sent us weeks in advance had made their mark, and now we were all gathered in the auditorium to pay tribute: a lauding of character traits we admired, praise for three years of accomplishment and growth, expressed expectations for the great things still to come.

As each 8th grader climbed the daunting steps and listened to the tribute and while the audience ahhhed, laughed, and applauded at the appropriate moments, I inwardly said good-bye to each one. So many memories: the time MC yelled "flamingos" for no reason in the middle of class, the time MT threw her arms around me in a surprise hug, the embarrassing moment when I called JG another student's wife by accident. I'll forever savor the two minutes I got to hold JK's hand while he sobbed over a deep hurt. I will cherish the dinner conversation with AM and CC when they shared about their God-given joys in life. I recall the cookies that IW, DD, and MF dropped in my mailbox just the other week. And I know it's time to let go. I don't want to, but it's time. They have slipped my grasp of Middle School (most tower over me by now), and they are more than ready to tackle the challenge of High School. So we celebrate with them this night. We recognize their individuality and with heavy hearts, saturated with pride and heart-break, release them to shine.

Treasured Gifts

Last night was our final Small Group of this school year, and nostalgia rolled over me much like the thunder storm did on top of Hochblauen (our local mountain). While munching on cucumbers and crackers on our make-shift picnic blanket, we bade farewell to the girls' sophomore year by looking back at the gifts we have received. Some were physical, given to each other throughout the year, while others were relational, in the welcoming of two new girls into our group this Spring. They have blessed us already in so many ways. I know I will treasure the marble heart in colors of beige and purple, and I love the games AA has taught us since her arrival.

Of course, my favorite gifts are the ones that gathered in my living room every Wednesday to share tea, cookies, and lives. The girls dug deep this year, and I loved intermixing our fun, goofy times (mainly during sleep-overs) with some serious, vulnerable sharing of the heart. We examined stories this year: the ones we find in the Bible and the ones God is writing into our lives at this very moment. I'll miss them dearly over the summer but look forward to another year of learning more about each other and about our Savior at the same time. Here's to you, MT, EE, PM, KH, AA, HH, CB, and HR!

Lugano 2013

Lugano - our annual trip to southern Switzerland with the 8th graders - was a blast. Apart from the too-close-for-comfort experience with near hypothermia when 9 kids decided to swim across the lake, things went really smoothly. The times in devotions were amazing. Below are my pictorial impressions and expressions.

 Anything more beautiful than seeing students pray together?

 Posing at our overlook with all the sweet 8th grade girls.

 The hikers who kept me company at the back.

A gale came up during our ferry ride. Some acting may have been involved. :-)

Only one injury that required all 5 chaperones to fix.

Third time co-leading this trip with my excellent colleague, Rachel! Thanks, friend!

Van ride home!

Fighting the Entitlement Mentality

This lesson is recent and raw, but I may as well get it down while it's fresh in my mind. I'm always grateful when God speaks to me so crystal clearly on something, even when it's a gentle smack in the face.

See, without going into too many details or wanting to put down my beautiful students, there's been some battling going on between teachers and students of late. Mainly it's been in regard to the end-of-the-year dinner. Students have been making various, what I'll call "selfish," requests for it, and after thought and research, we have basically said "no" to most of them. The response has been, as to be expected, less than enthusiastic and culminated on Friday on their M.S. evaluations. Several negative comments followed each other until I somewhat exploded into a tirade. "Don't they realize that this dinner is entirely a gift?! From us to them! It costs them nothing, and we shower them with love and stories and gifts and personally written notes, and yet they're demanding things to be exactly their way. And when it's not, they gripe and whine and say we're treating them like 3rd graders! This isn't a 'right,' it's a free gift. A gift!"

I'm pretty sure God waited all of two seconds before I heard the Holy Spirit clear as day in my heart: "Sound familiar, Katrina?" When I stop to consider all the gifts God has given me, it doesn't take me too long to shut my mouth. I get to live and work in the absolute best setting I could imagine, with people who also love what they do and the kids they do it for. God has, for some reason, seen fit to place me into a supportive family, and my circle of wonderful friends spans the globe. I'm healthy and get to travel, and I haven't even broached the subject yet of all the gifts Christ gave me through his death on the cross - salvation, redemption, eternal life! The very breath I use to complain against him is a gift. And that's my default, isn't it: to complain and gripe and say "But why couldn't I have been made like this? And why can't I have that?"

Entitlement. It takes me back to the original sin in the Garden. It's the idea that God is holding out on something good that we deserve, something that is our right. It's the lie we've been taught from the cradle that we should only have good things happen to us. Yet, a friend back in Minnesota used to say it straight forward a lot: "What we truly deserve is eternal hell." And he was right. Entitlement is a lie because God doesn't hold out. In fact, what he has promised and guaranteed us is exactly the opposite in all the splurging he plans to do in heaven. With such an amazing future in our back pockets, why shouldn't we be willing to endure fire and brimstone in this life if he asked us to. The final reward stands absolutely secure. Entitlement steals our joy in the here and now. It darkens those lenses that allow us to see every gift for what it actually is: a gift! "Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights" (James 1:17). In that one instant, I saw myself and my sweet kiddoes in the light of truth. As believers, we're not getting what we deserve, and that's a good thing.

This wasn't meant to be a sermon, except to my own soul, but perhaps you can identify. When I saw my tirade in light of my own short-comings and God's generosity, I was able to leave my office again and feel genuine love again for the students. Just one more gift from his hand to my heart.

The beautiful 8th grade class - they really do hold a special place in my heart!

Of Castles and Paper Airplanes

  

The weather wasn't quite what I had hoped for, but there was no changing plans now. I had told the 8th graders that we were hiking to the castle today, and hike we would! Armed with our lunches, hiking shoes, cameras, and a Castle worksheet, 24 students and 5 teachers set out for Sausenburg.

Despite the rain, we had a blast clambering over curtain walls and scaling up the stairs of the tower, checking out the view of the bailey and batter below (ask an 8th grader what all these terms mean). Where things grew interesting was in regard to NG's paper airplane. (Why yes, it was made out of his castle worksheet). I had a rule about not throwing litter from the top of the tower (thanks to the kid last year who lost his worksheet that way), but NG very badly wanted to toss his paper airplane down. Soon he had the whole class begging on his behalf as well. The pressure was on. After surveying the situation and eliciting a promise from NG that he would retrieve it no matter where it landed - even from the far side of the woods - and a promise from the rest of the class not to copycat him, I finally relented. He leaned back and let fly! 

And it landed about seven feet away, below him, in the middle of the vines on the tower (blue spot in the second picture). No retrieval possible. I've never heard 24 8th graders laugh so hard!

 Fun was had by all, and with any blessing, some things were learned as well about castles and the Middle Ages and the wisdom of the words "I really don't think that's a good idea...."

Alvin Fernald: Mayor for a Day

I'm clad completely in black, half-crouched behind the set and surrounded by sixteen Middle schoolers. Twelve of them are budding thespians currently pacing circles in the itty bitty living space allotted to them. It's clear some of them are fighting the urge to wipe the sweat from their brows, the stern words of the make-up artists still ringing in their ears: "Do not touch your foreheads!" Outside, beyond our black fortress, we can hear the crowd cramming in to their seats. Sold out, we were told. Some parents have flown from far away countries to come watch their children shine on stage.

HK tries to release some tension by doing jumping jacks and is immediately shushed by the four others when they see the set wobble. PR is quoting lines - not just hers. She had memorized everyone else's lines by about week two of practice. Her task is a difficult one tonight though, playing the love interest to the main character. KB is bubbling with nervous babble next to me, and I nod with a smile and a gentle pat on her police cap.

Suddenly the house lights begin to flicker. Sixteen students around me gasp and duck as if they've been struck. The long-awaited moment has come. The music cues, and DD takes his place next to door. With one final adjustment of the bow tie, he disappears and is replaced by Alvin Fernald who cautiously opens the door onto stage with a "Hello?" and will not return until the final bow has been taken.

And shine they do. Every single one of them. The crowd laughs at all the right moments and even at some unexpected ones. KB nails every single one of my favorite lines (she had them all), LW is cute as all get out, KJ manages to keep a stern face for all her mean lines, and PR's awkard kiss even finds its mark. The crowd hoots and hollers, and I can't help but cheer along with them. Even though I contributed little to this production beyond crowd control, my heart is absolutely bursting with pride!

I'm proud of these kids and their outstanding efforts to put on an amazing show. I'm proud of my colleagues and the way they were able to coax this talent out of ordinary kids. I'm proud of the community who sees the value in coming out tonight and supporting Middle Schoolers. I'm proud of the God who created them all with talents and allows them to put them on display to show off his creativity and unique personality placement. And this pride humbles me, too. What a responsibility to continue to love on these kids (and the 46 others who sat in the audience) and help them ALL discover their gifts. What a privilege.

 Trying to make HK look older.

Pre-show jitters for the star DD.

PR getting her make-up applied.

The process is a little more painful for JO who fights it all the way.

 The most beautiful fire chief ever: JC

 KJ's mom flew in from another continent!

 So impressed with the way KB stretched herself!

Cast, crew, and director