The Night before The First Day Of School.

I have suddenly become very nervous if anxious even about going back to "school" tomorrow. You can tell (by my last blog if nothing else) how incredible passionate I am about my job and I in my heart am very excited to get going. I tend to thrive in fall and truly live the best of me in the winter.

This year at our official kickoff our Superintendent said that she has always, always had those last night before the first day of school jitters. She told her husband that the day that stops is the day she knows she needs to switch jobs.

This year though (like every other) there is so much unknown. I do not know who I will be working with or when. I know I have much more responsibility but do not know how to do it. I know I have many new kids but no idea who they are or they interact and react and how to best love and equip them. I know I have a new supervisor and that I have proven myself to be a capable employee but I know not how he reacts to stress or reacts to mine. I'm nervous about how I will react to another extreme in my life. The extreme change in diet and exercise will now be joined with extreme change in sleep schedule. I know I can handle it, every other year as soon as I get back in the swing of things I can stay up until 11, Midnight even and be fine getting up at 5:30. It's the switch to something new. Something different that alwasy tends to make me nervous.

I know what a huge this year is going to be, in our country, in our district, in my kids' lives, in mine. I know I must be fully aligned with Christ so I can take an aggressive stance on the battlefield.

I want to fight for that school, for those kids, not against it. I want to fight with both hands up, not laying on my back both hands waving. I want to go in fully covered, fully prepared.

So if you think of it in the next 12 or so hours lift us up can you? Cover me in the prayers of the saints.

In all honesty I have never considered my present job my career. My career is always the next step, this is just getting me through. Paying the bills until I decide. I have literally gotten excited and giddy about starting school in the new year. Excited about the next step, my real career. It was not until I realized how passionate I was during our start up meetings and how energized I was by the busyness of set up week, how confident I was with the responsibility that's typical shared by an entire site. It was then that I started finally considering this God's current plan for my life. That I'm growing as a woman, an adult and an educator. That I'm where I'm supposed to be. That He's honors me here.

Where I Went To The State Fair

Yesterday I went to the Minnesota State Fair. I was more then a little excited since I was in New Zealand for the fair last year.

I get so giddy for things like the fair. Something about all the excitement, all the different things to see, hear, touch, all the different smells and tastes. There is a line in "James and The Giant Peach" when Grasshopper sings this song that goes "Bright lights, big city, that's what we're looking for." That sums me up pretty well. Which is ironic in it's own right because I typically don't enjoy being in large crowds all that much. I didn't have much more then ten bucks yesterday and no desire to waste thousands of calories on greasy food that would most likely leave me revisiting Friday nights escapades but I was at the fair for a little over 10 hours.

There were a few note worthy moments in my day...

• I ran into more people I know yesterday then I have ever run into anywhere. Alyssa, Donnie and the new baby. Kristen and Greg. Brea. Heidi, Drake and JC.
• Taking a newly potty trained 3-year old without a change of clothes should have been re thought before leaving the house. People were so gracious though. Tip for parenting, if you ever need to save an accident, look for the soccer Mom at the front of the bathroom line. Most likely she'll give up her spot for you and if your really lucky make the people in front of her let you go in front too.
• Resisting temptation to eat high calorie, greasy, deep fried anything on a stick is really much easier then it sounds. Just look around at the people eating the stuff, there's really no gracious way to eat it. Most of the time watching it be consumed by others is enough to not want to experience it on your own.

We walked past an FSN North stand at some point through the day and there were two Vikings cheerleaders there taking pictures and giving autographs. (I'm still at a loss as to why so many parents were "encouraging" their prepubescent sons to take pictures and meet the girls, even though they were much more interested in watching the Twins game in the next tent). But Izze saw the brightly colored pom poms and the glitter and wanted to meet the girls. So we stood in line and had her and Keira take a picture with the girls. (Who were, by the way very kind and signed posters and let the girls play with the pom poms). The interaction to me was not so disturbing as the reactions afterwards. Izze sat in her stroller for a good ten minutes just holding the poster in front of her, staring at the cheerleaders. I wonder how at such a young age she has already defined beauty. There is no avoiding the fact Izze was enthralled by theirs. What bothered me was how fleeting their beauty was. I will not say the girls were ugly, but even the way they sat looked forced and almost painful. Their faces threatening to wash away if it were to rain or God save they cried. There personalities had become rote memorization of cheerleader pep and Viking pride.

I don't fear that is Isabelle's only association to beauty. She continually calls her Mother, Grandma and both us Aunties beautiful and we all have very, very different ideas of beauty and all carry ourselves differently. At the Miracle of Birth center she pet a 15 minute old piglet and exclaimed "Oh Danda, he is beautiful." What I fear is that at three she has somehow grasped the world's pinnacle of beauty as being very near what the cheerleaders had. Blond hair, pouty lips, a dangerously thin waste line, large breasts, and lots of makeup.

Don't take this as Mandi is anti-cheerleader. I mean, it's never a sport I would choose to be a part of but I do have a friend who now cheers at the collegiate level and was also royalty for the city of Maple Grove. And I can tell you she is one of the most independent, level headed, colorful people I have ever met. We have worked together for numerous summers now and I have seen first hand how hard of a worker she is, how wonderful she is with kids and how deep her convictions and emotions go. She is not flighty, fake, or delicate nor do I assume the cheerleaders at the fair were.

At a different moment at the fair I ran into one of the most influential people in my life. With out a doubt God has written her into the story of my life as a testimony to His grace, His gentleness and His beauty. She is probably the most beautiful woman I have ever known. Literally and spiritually. There is no helping leaving her and feeling beautiful myself. She just radiates humble beauty and confidence. It's other worldy. That much is obvious. She is so convinced of who she is in Him that it physically radiates off of her. She was without makeup, in a black t-shirt and blue jeans.

That is the beauty I want Izze to know in her life. Beauty that does not fade with age and opportunity and career. Beauty that does not falter when the rest of life does. Beauty that cannot be shaken. Beauty that comes from beyond anything we can grasp. Anything we can touch, paint, pluck, dye, apply, subtract. Beauty bred out of love and relationship. Not beauty bred out of hate and desire to be filled. Beauty from fulfillment, from knowing we are sure, we are held, we are loved, and wanted and desired. And I desperately, desperately want her to know that, to understand, to trust it, to live it...

before she is twenty three.

We visited the pro-life tent and signed a petition. Which is kind of a must for children bred of Republican parents eh? I liked playing with the plastic fetal dolls, holding the 5 month one knowing my cousin has the same thing safely cradled inside her.

Except I think women like Abbi, Justine and Dede have greater right to be pro-life then people like me. I mean really, I am a semi hypocrite for signing that thing aren't I? Absolutely I am passionate about children, life, babies, women. It infuriates me that more unborn children have been killed since abortion was legalized in 1973 then all US casualties in all American participatory wars combine. We support our troops but not our children. It confuses me that we'll run 5K's for cancer, diabetes and lung disease when the leading cause of death in Minnesota is abortion. I don't know how to grasp the fact that it's estimated that 1/2 of my generation was never allowed to be born. (Maybe a best friend my age or my boyfriend were in that group). But I'm also a virgin. What if I slipped up? Everyone knows I'm prone to following my heart in the moment and letting my head catch up later. I'm almost grateful for a fear that keeps me at least 6 ft. from all men at all times because a temptation to even come close to that kind of "slip up" is almost non existent in my life. Had you asked me to sign a petition about better pay for Minnesota's Educators, tax breaks for single parent households with medical issues or equality for snowboarders I would have been able to sign it knowing I had been on the other side. I've been in the school system for long enough to tell you they don't make enough, seen a clinically ill mother work four jobs because she has four mouths to feed, and been the snowboarder chided by the skiier for going too fast. (Ok that last ones a joke).

I've never been the scared teenager who sees two pink lines instead of one. I've never been the woman working doubles at Wal-Mart to keep the toddler fed and the electricity on. I've never had to give up my dreams, my goals, my job, my friends, even my family for a mistake I made. (Occasionally it feels like it but lets be honest...) I sign the petitions because I'm safe. I won't have an unexpected pregnancy. But I know it's not just the ones who get caught, girls who get pregnant the first time, the last time, that one time. I know so, so many who've done the same thing and didn't have to pay for it with another life. We all make mistakes. I fall into temptation constantly. I will be desperately honest and say my carnal sin is I love to cut. But the sweet, sick satisfaction of dragging a blade across my skin leaves me with a scab and a scar that I can hide, not a child's life to be responsible for. So I sign the petition because I care about life but that's mostly where my personal involvement stops. I've never signed petitions to get better legislation for Minnesota's adoption system. I've never volunteered my time at the crisis nursery. I've never picketed for welfare reform. Never fought for better sex and health education at the Jr. High level. My life has happened to cross paths with numerous single/teenage mothers but I have not gone out of my way to find, help or be involved with others.

So many people have asked me lately whether I am a Republican or Democrat or who I plan to vote for. I would have to ask then on which issue do you wonder because the lines have continued to get a whole lot more blurred.

I was talking to a woman a few days ago whom I love very much and in whose wisdom I am continually blown away. And I was verbally processing what I was continuing to call the "suburban poor" she helped me to see what we have created as a society, "the American Caste".

The suburban poor, which I am incredibly passionate about continue to be pushed to the margins of American society. Kids like mine whose households can bring in less then 15,000 annually are ignored by big money cooperations and non-profits looking to donate to the "inner city." Many inner city problems like drugs, gang violence and prostitution are allowed to run rampant because specialized law enforcement task forces are sent elsewhere into the big cities. So these kids, if they make it to birth, are born into a set class they have little chance of escaping.

The working poor in America have all but depleted the middle class. As the economy continues to fall the great divide between the rich and poor continues to grow. Take for instance the recent tax referendum in Hennipen County that left Osseo School District in upwards of a 4 million dollar deficit. Where is the largest voting percentage coming from in Hennipen County? The Western side. Where both the average age and income of voters is higher. So basically what we're looking at is the only people going out to vote for something as low profile as a tax referendum are old people with money. (Yes, that is a very much a dramatic statement but voter turn out was notoriously low.) But lets go back and look at this hypothetically shall we? For something so small as a county raising taxes how would you find out about it? You would have to be involved in your county or community true? You'd have to have extra time to be reading, listening, or involved. Might be hard to do if your a young, single parent. Heck, even if your married having time to do anything is rough with kids. Might also be hard if you didn't speak the dominant language. (And before we get huffy that in this country, we speak English take into consideration that we have no national language). And if this were about money per say, you'd care more if you had some right? Well ok, I'll drop it what's in the past is in the past. We can't go back now.

Back to these kids and my theory of an American Caste. Now these "suburban" schools have Kindergarten ratios of 24, 26:1. I will not say anything negative about Kindergarten teachers because they must be the most patient and gracious people I have ever met, but no matter how big your heart is without help there is no way that at 26:1 a Kindergartener (especially one coming with no type of pre-school education) is going to get the one on one attention needed to firmly cement the educational building blocks and social skills foundation needed to fully excel at an elementary education.

Not to mention that with extreme budget cuts like the ones we've just faced with programs like gym and sports being cut and serious cuts to the nutrition programs kids are NOT GOING to get the nutrition and exercise that bodies desperately need to fully engage all body systems needed to learn and grow. All the studies coming out of schools like Duke and Yale show countless studies that music and arts programs help to build stronger and safer communities but those are the first to get cut. We have mostly accepted how disgustingly off kilter the U.S. has become with food and obesity but we don't think twice about cutting gym and sports programs at even the youngest level of public education. Without a serious welfare reform even programs like WIC and food stamps will not be able to provide proper nutrition to our most vulnerable.

We can tell our children to be all they can be. We can tell them how important it is to stay in school but without a strong elementary foundation, by the time they are in Jr. High the struggle to comprehend and learn has become so difficult the glimmer and hope of escaping it all with drugs and alcohol becomes all to real. I can't blame them for wanting an escape. By Highschool the desire to be wanted, needed, important, special is strangling and the instant gratification promised in everything from instant meals at McDonalds and instant celebrity on youtube leads to an all time high in teen sexual activity, pregnancy and yes, abortion.

WAKE UP! American teens are buying what America is selling!

Sex sells guys. Yes, we can tell them to be all they can be. To go to college but without helping them along the way, without finding a way to break out of the economic class their parents are trapped in college is just as much a fairy tale as playing in the NFL. We can tell them to be all they can be, but without changing the world we brought them into, they can't be.

I know the only hope for a broken world is a God who offers wholeness. A God who offers relationship. Hope. Grace. Peace. A future. I tell my kids they will be great because He is great. I start work tomorrow with lots of them, I will instill in them the greatness of who He's created them to be and I will expect nothing less.

"Who needs a creator when we can sculpt mountains? Who needs a Physician when we can heal ourselves? Who needs Providence for food when we clone animals for food? Who needs a Savior when we have a four hundred billion dollar defense shield? Who needs a Deliverer when the empire has become a democracy? Who needs a God when we are worthy of worship ourselves?" -Jesus for President.

Dear World, This is not my Jesus.

But we've gotta wake up! We're starting to look less and less like the church He left and more and more like the Babylon He's coming to destroy but we are not without hope! We are not to far gone!

"My first allegiance is not to a flag, a country or a man. My first allegiance is not to democracy or blood. It's to a king and a kingdom." -Derek Webb

We have a whole new definition of loving our enemies as we send more troops into the Middle East. We have a whole new definition of loving orphans and widows when we continue to buy into the yoke of capitalism and force our mothers, daughters and sisters in Sri Lanka, India and China under the same. We have a whole definition of being "SET APART" as we continue to be drunk on the "cocktails of culture."

I would vote for Jesus, except I think He would make an awful President.

On a different note, I've come to the conclusion (after much experience and finishing 1 Timothy) that ignoring someone is an awful form of behavior modification and one of the cruelest forms of manipulation. What ignoring someone says is, "Your not doing what I want, being who I want, acting like I want and I am keeping something (myself) from you until you do, be what I want." Essentially what it says, is I am in control. I think in a marriage relationship it borders on infidelity, parenting borders on abuse, friendship borders on betrayal. I think most people would rather just fight, scream, cry than be ignored. Being created in the image of a completely relational God, it's just against our genetic makeup as sons to be ignored.

We can't keep ignoring this. Our world. Our society. Our church. Our schools. Our jobs. Our relationships.

I've also come to the conclusion if I can go two weeks without doing laundry and still be wearing clean clothes, I have to many clothes.

I'm in training y'all...enjoy the ride.