I hate taxes

I hate taxes. Wednesday is our postponed tax appointment. We prepare our own because we also hate to pay someone else to do them. I hate taxes.

This morning I got up early to begin AGAIN on tax preparation. I hate taxes.

But first, I remembered I didn't update the family on Virginia's surgery progress, which led me to FaceBook where I got distracted reading friends' news.

And while I was on the computer, I had to email the English teacher our group's collaborative lesson plan assignment due by noon today. I had to do homework this weekend! But at least it kept me from doing taxes.

Since I was going downstairs to the computer, I brought the sheets and began laundry. I hate taxes.

Then I cleaned up the kitchen from breakfast and last night's snack before I mixed brownies for this afternoon's Good News Club and put them in the oven. Oh, and later this morning I have to study my Elijah lesson some more. But that's much better for me spiritually than taxes. Must put God before taxes (although I'm skipping Monday morning Bible study to get all this done).

And the bread maker was sitting on the counter, so I threw in ingredients for a loaf of bread and got that started. I hate taxes.

Then I had a stern talk with myself to go running, even though I don't want to, because I gained weight this weekend eating three normal meals instead of my lightweight or skipped meals. I hate the scales as much as I hate taxes (!) so I went running (Oh, "Hi, Vanessa," who just honked as she drove by me on the way to school). I wonder if she knows how much I hate taxes.

So I got home just in time to take the brownies out of the oven. But I'm rambling on here. Now I need to shower, wash my hair, curl or straighten it, make up the bed, bake the bread, and FINALLY begin sorting through a mound of receipts and adding up my deductibles, which I hate doing, by the way.

And it had better get done before Good News Club, because afterward I have four make-up piano lessons. And in the evenings I'm wiped and good for nothing. I'd really hate working on taxes then.

But then I decided to blog. But I can't think of any more excuses, and I REALLY don't want to spend an all-nighter Tuesday night.

So here I go.

I'm signing off.

Bye.

It is the Lord's Day AND Mother's Day

This morning's church service and our prayer group afterward

was just the sweetest time with Christians full of faith.

God has given me such a great gift of being a mother.

I love my daughter soooo much.

We had a lovely catered luncheon here at home with the family.

Roxanne, and her family, gave me a pretty sarong swimsuit cover from Hawaii.

Sorry, I'm not posing with that one for pictures.

This is what was in the package from Sweet Romance.

Mini jeweled enamelware frames.

You have such good taste, Tom.

Reasons to Celebrate

1. VACATION: I was on vacation this week.

During the mornings I worked on the house, prayed for my desperately ill sister, weeded the garden, worked on taxes, layed in the sun, and tried not to think what time of day it was or even what day it was.

Except for Tuesday night when one of my students had a master lesson at the University (which I paid for and didn't want to miss).

And except for Wednesday night which was my "How to teach English class" (so interesting I didn't want to miss that one either). This is Madeleine, our excellent teacher.

And except for Thursday night when Grant had his end-of-the-year concert (He's in the elementary Honor Band, so I didn't want to miss that one either).

2. GRANDSON GRANT: Thursday was his concert, and today his last soccer game of the season. I'm one of those several on the sidelines who get excited and yell, "Follow the ball" and "Good save," etc. Roxanne says, "Mom! Your voice is on the video!" Meanwhile I'm ready to say, "Send me in coach! I'll help out the team." I think at the end of the season there SHOULD be a game of the parents as players. I think we'd discover there are no shin pads big enough to make us get in a scuffle for the ball.

3. MOTHER'S DAY: Tomorrow is Mother's Day. A couple days ago Tom called me from work and said, "O, by the way, I invited the family over to our house for a Mother's Day luncheon." Then VeRy QUICKLY explained he was going to buy restaurant food so Roxanne nor I would have to cook. Good so far.

Then a package was delivered from Sweet Romance, my favorite retro jeweler, while Tom was a work. Hmmm. Getting better.

Then today Tom suggested "we" go shopping and buy matching tablecloths for the two smaller tables we will use at our Mother's Day luncheon.

And he went to TWO stores. This is epic. He didn't make me buy the first one we saw. I was pushing his limits when I asked if I could look in a dress shop, but he said, "No, you're on MY time." Meaning: the shopping is over.

But it's all good. He was soooo proud of himself and asked if I was going to take a picture of the tablecloths and put it on my blog.

He wants to be on my blog :) How sweet.

Okay, honey, here's the picture. Oops. I forgot to get a picture of the round table. But you get the idea. The tables were elegant.

Sorry for the diatribe, but I'm feeling kind of raw right now

My sister, Ginger, was taken into 5 hours of emergency open heart surgery during the night after suffering a massive stroke. Here she is just one month ago at our father's memorial gathering.

When I wrote extended family about it, asking for prayer, one of the responses was, "Our prayers are that Virginia will not have brain damage and will be alert and well following surgery...of course if the Lord wills."

It made me angry. I've been struggling for some time now what it means to pray in faith.

I don't recall ever reading in the Bible when someone asked Jesus to heal them that He ever said, "Oh wait, let me see if it is the Father's will" or "Sorry, it's just not in My will or my 'timing' to heal you right now." He pitied them and answered their cry of faith. I think we try too hard to cover our bases when He doesn't give us our requests (It must not be His will, or It must not be His timing), so we can blame it on Him rather than on our lack of faith.

He told us He would even move a mountain if we had miniscule faith. Why would He say such a thing? What kind of pointless prayer is that? Who needs a mountain to move? I don't think He meant it metaphorically either. Because Jesus scolded the disciples for their lack of faith on the sea of Galilee, I've been wondering if the winds and waves would have obeyed THEM if they commanded them (not timidly asked) just as Jesus did. And they didn't just accept it might be God's will for them to die right then. They cried out desperately to Jesus to rescue them. And He did, even after scolding them.

When I pray, I've begun to EXPECT God to answer. He's God. If I don't expect Him to answer, why do I pray at all? Why not expect Him to intervene when He went to all the trouble to give His own Son for us so we could be His family and cry out for His help in every area of life, not just repentance? HE wrote the promises in the Bible and scolded his disciples for not believing them. Do I believe Him? Do my prayers reflect that?

Does anything really move me to stop what I'm doing and devote myself to prayer? Do I honestly care enough to cry out desperately to Him? Are all my times of talking to the Lord only "quiet times?" No, today I will have a "loud time" with the Lord. Praising Him that He has the power and the desire to answer prayer and asking Him to heal my sister, Ginger. He told me to cast my cares on Him because He cares for me. Will He scold me for being disrespectful or be grateful that I finally "get it?" I honestly don't know. But I also don't recall Him ever saying in the Bible, "You ask too much of Me" or "Why are you always asking for my help?" or "Stop whining! and leave me alone!"

God will do whatever He wants, but that won't stop me from banging on his door and begging Him to give me my heart's desire, and be terribly and unashamedly disappointed if He doesn't. I won't leave Him, but I won't pray timidly and try to cover my bases to explain why He's sometimes silent.

Sorry for the diatribe, but I'm feeling kind of raw right now.

Teaching English as a Foreign Language

I know I'm supposed to be on vacation this week, but writing is cathartic for me. And did I ever write today!

I had an assignment due by noon today, and it got me on a roll. This morning it took me 2-1/2 hours to prepare one lesson plan for this assignment. I spent the same amount of time last evening after church on another lesson plan, then in the middle of the night remembered it was supposed to be Intermediate level, and I had done Beginner level. So I had to do another one.

This afternoon I roughed out a proposal (including a proposed budget) for the Trinity Missions Committee requesting permission to be under the church's umbrella to teach this English class at Micah House in the Fall. If they agree, they will provide partial scholarships for those students who cannot afford their workbooks.

This evening I spent 3 hours on a rough draft syllabus for 40 two-hour classes. I need a framework for sanity. I'm feeling panicky about the scope of this project, and a syllabus is like building a fence around what I will include and what I will discard. THEN I can begin writing lesson plans.

There are wonderful resources available: books full of ideas, activities, target vocabulary, word games, etc., but we still have to make detailed lesson plans for every 50-minute time period.

For peace of mind I want to have several lesson plans completed with feedback from our excellent teacher before this class ends, even though only one is required.

I still managed to lie in the sun for an hour today.

Holland Days

Today is Holland Days at Redlands Christian School.

We took Grant after soccer. He enjoyed a snow cone and games.

These cute kids put on a dance performance.