Generosity.

As the beginning of the school year creeps closer and the stores are filling up with pencils and pens and notebooks and binders, I start to miss teaching just a little bit.  Before I became a mom, the time of year right before school started was very exciting for me.  I'd scour the ads and stock up on staples for my classroom.  My mind would be filling with ideas to make the year in my science classroom the best yet,  and I can honestly say that each year of teaching for me was just that- even more fun and productive and even slightly less exhausting than the last.  I would spend hours setting my classroom up, running copies to beat the teacher work day rush, and of course, planning all of my outfits for the first two months of school so that there would be no repeats.  On a calendar.  'Cuz I'm cool like that.

As the school year began, I would hand out the list of supplies to my kids and throughout the first week of classes, I would walk around the classroom with my clipboard during the bellwork activities getting to know the kids and checking off their school supplies on my clipboard-
binder, calculator, paper, book cover, pencil, textbook- check.
It was really important to me to make sure each student was equipped properly for the semester ahead and for each day of my class, so I was always, always checking their supplies.  I am sure it drove them crazy, but with the students I taught this kind of structure was essential.  If they know you are going to hold them accountable, they will perform.  My students worked in cooperative groups of 4, and as I went around each table that first week of class there was always some awkwardness among the kids, sitting and staring at people they had never met before in a class they weren't sure about.  Most of the students in my class didn't know each other and I always saw it as my job to build a community in that room in the short time of our semester together.  If I could get the kids to care for each other and look out for each other it could be the best feeling ever.  Fortunately for me, some of the kids managed to take care of that themselves.

One early morning in Block 4 Integrated Chemistry-Physics, I was clicking around the room in my high heels checking off supplies.  I got to the last table, the one that sits right in front of my overhead projector and start chatting with the kids.  As I did, I noticed the desk of one boy, a junior named Matt, was decidedly empty.  Matt was small and wiry and had an appearance that was already a little weathered beyond his 16 or 17 years- that general look of a kid who does most of his looking out for himself.  I could tell from his T-shirt that he liked the Grateful Dead and from the way he spoke that he was smart, but I could also tell by his behavior that his grades might never show that.  From my first impression, I liked him right away and I knew he might challenge other people's authority but that we would get along just fine.  I could see him shuffle and squirm in his chair as I got to his desk, which is a look I had seen often before so I smiled and gave him the ol' one-raised-eyebrow and asked if he had a chance to get his supplies yet.  He looked down and his desk and then back up at me and said, "Well, Mrs. Zink, my mom doesn't get paid this week so I don't get any supplies just yet."  He could have been lying or he could have been telling the truth, but either way it was brave of him to say that in front of a table of kids he didn't know who could surely overhear.  I had heard that story many times before and had a special stash of supplies in my room just for money situations, so I told him not to worry and we would work something out after class.  I gave him a binder and a few things to use, and when I did he said, "I'll just borrow these and get my own supplies soon."  I told him there was really no need and didn't think another thing about it.

Fast forward a few days, when another boy, Cory, from my 4th block class comes to me before school.  He seemed to be a newer student, and I could tell that he didn't know anyone else in our class by the way he looked around and mostly kept to himself.  He was shy, and very sweet, with a baby face and reddish hair and that sort of awkward hunching over teenage boys have when grow really tall, but they feel too tall too fast and try to overcompensate.  He walked up to my desk, handed me a plastic bag and said, "Mrs. Zink, could you please give these to Matt?"  It was a Target bag and inside I found binders, pens, pencils, papers, a reusable lunch bag and anything else Matt would need to succeed in school.  I gave Cory and awestruck sort of look and he started to explain.  "Well, Mrs. Zink,  I saw him in the lunchroom after class the other day and he had this wrinkled up old paper bag for his lunch with hardly any food in it.  I just felt so bad.  I asked my mom to take me to get him a real lunch bag and some supplies and she said we could, but I just don't want him to know they were from me."
Uh, wow.
And who says teenagers are self centered?
My eyes started to fill with tears.  I was pretty sure that Cory and his mom didn't have a lot of extra money for things like that, but the fact that the compassion for another person was so deep inside him that he couldn't help but act completely humbled me.

I gave the bag to Matt's guidance counselor, and she called him down to the office to get it.  I am sure he stammered some sort of response before he shuffled back to his locker with his goodies from some mysterious benefactor.  I wish I could have been there as he went through the bag.  I don't think anything feels quite as good as the kindness of a stranger, and it sure makes you feel special and even more accountable when that kindness comes anonymously with no strings attached.  The next day, when I made the rounds for supply check block 4, Matt's desk was full up.  I enjoyed acting pleased and surprised.  I could tell there was a little bit more awe in his eyes and more softness in his spirit after that.  And I smiled to myself as I saw Cory sneak a look over to his tablemate's desk, see his anonymous gift, and hold his shoulders just a little bit higher.  That beautiful act of kindness among two teenage boys will live in my heart forever.  Cory's giving when he had little himself, with no recognition or hope for return, is the kind of generosity we'd all like to have.  So, if you ever lose hope in teenage boys, there's some for you!!  Thank you, Cory and Matt!

12 Books that change your heart forever.

"Spiritual Reading is food for our souls.  As we slowly let the words of the Bible or a good spiritual book enter into our minds and descend into our hearts, we become different people. . .as we read spiritually about spiritual things, we open our hearts to God's voice.  Sometimes we  must be willing to put down the book we are reading and just listen to what God is saying to us through its words."

- Henri Nouwen, Bread for the Journey

Here are some non-fiction books that have nurtured my spirit.  Some of them are intended to be spiritual books, some of them are not, some are from a Christian worldview, and some are from diverse perspectives.  A handful I have read recently, some I read so long ago I forget many of the details. Each of these books carried wisdom, comfort, grace, and "bread" for my journey in their pages. I may have put them back on a shelf but I carry them in my heart.

1. The Way of the Heart  by Henri Nouwen

This is a short and lovely book about praying with your entire being.  So often we focus on the mind and on words, then we get frustrated with ourselves when our minds wander or our words fail us as we pray.  It is written to an audience of ministers, but we are all ministers in our own way and there are gems of wisdom for everyone.  If you have ever wanted to really "pray without ceasing" this book offers the path.

2. I'm Proud of You by Tim Madigan

This is a powerful story of a deep and meaningful friendship.  The author brilliantly covers love, loss, heartbreak, reconciliation, and the most personal and universal parts of the human experience.  When I bought the book, I was expecting a simple memoir about how great Fred Rogers was. . .which of course I already knew.  But this book is so much more than a tribute to this man.  Mr. Madigan shares his heart and his personal journey and struggles so skillfully that everyone who reads it will find something that resonates.  It leaves you wanting to be a better friend to everyone you meet, and a simply a better human being.

3. Loving the Little Years by Rachel Jankovic

Honestly, I don't enjoy many parenting books because I find them preachy, intimidating, or they are written by the parents of older children who are dealing with completely different (and more complex) problems than "How do I survive until I can get these kids down for a nap?" But if you have little ones, this book is for you. The subtitle is "motherhood from the trenches" and it is written by a mom who had 5 children under the age of 6.   I don't even know how she found the time to write this book but I am glad she did.  She gets it.   She doesn't brag about it.  She doesn't preach about it.  She just tells it.  It is short and filled with so much truth and goodness.  Her thoughts are expressed in very carefully selected and lovely words.  I finished it during one episode of Sesame Street, then went back and read it two more times in the next day.  It's like sitting down for a cup of coffee with a good friend.  She isn't going to tell you how to do things, she's just going to tell you how it is for her, and by exposing her innermost thoughts and feelings simultaneously offer you comfort and call you to greater accountability.  There were passages I read in this book that go through my head every day.  It completely changed my way of thinking about some aspects of motherhood, and made me a better mother to my three boys.

4.  The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls

This memoir is compelling and fascinating. . .I couldn't put it down.  The author brilliantly weaves together humor and wit with tremendous heartbreak.  When you finish the book, you can't help but wonder at the amazing power of some human beings to overcome and thrive despite devastating circumstances.  The characters (made all that more impressive because they are real people) stay with you forever.

5. The Joy in Loving: A Guide to Daily Living by Mother Teresa

I have had this daybook for years.  If I was going to a desert island and could only take one book or some hypothetical situation like that, this would be it.  Every day is a gem from Mother Teresa, who basically changed the face of the earth with her love.  The most important thing I have gained from this book is that this amazing love starts in our home.  If you want to love the world, love the people closest to you. . .that's where love begins.  Smile at each other, and smile at your family first before anyone else.  Love them first, and the love will spread.  I would like to buy everyone in the universe a copy of this book.

6. The Five Love Languages by Gary Chapman

I only recently purchased this book, but I think that's its overwhelming popularity comes from the fact that the author has distilled a very meaningful truth.  We all have different ways of loving and of feeling love.  If you want to love other people the best you can, you need to make sure you are expressing love to them in a way that they understand.  This book, through examples, quizzes, and concrete suggestions for daily living helped me discover a lot about myself and the ones I love.  The other basic concept of the book is thaot love is not just a feeling, it is an act.  It's a conscious choice of what we DO for another human being because we are called to love them.  This book has the potential to change your marriage forever and for better.

7.  Found. . .the best lost, tossed, and forgotten items from around the world by Davy Rothbart

This book is just like it sounds from the title- an entire collection of "things"- from mundane shopping lists to devastating suicide notes. . .dear john letters to the scribbles of children. . .all things that people "found" and mailed to the author.  You will laugh and you will weep.  You'll feel hopeful, amused, and somewhat unsettled but mostly you will just feel connected to the anonymous people who wrote the pieces in this book.  You realize how universal our human experience is.  Everyone, from all walks of life, experience the same emotions, thoughts, and feelings, they just get expressed in different ways.  This book makes you appreciate that.

8.  The Power of a Praying Wife by Stormie Omartian


I picked this book up at the library when I was a new mother struggling with balancing my new role with the old.  It seemed overwhelming to me to be a working mother AND be the wife I was called to be for my husband.  I mean, I have to cook for him, clean for him, take care of his baby AND PRAY FOR HIM!!  Sheesh. :)  It seemed a little ridiculous.  However, when I got over my selfish instincts and dove into this book I realized that what my momma said was totally right. . .the only person you can change is yourself.  My marriage is deeper and more loving than when we were newlyweds, mostly thanks to the fact that Paul is a great guy and I stuck to the concept in this book. . .pray for your husband, darn it.  He needs it, and so do you.

9.  You Are Special by Fred Rogers

"You know, I think everybody longs to be loved, and longs to know that he or she is lovable. And, 

consequently, the greatest thing that we can do is to help somebody know that they're loved and 

capable of loving."

- Fred Rogers

If you want to make someone feel loved, give them this book filled with wisdom and grace from one of my favorite humans of all time, Fred Rogers.  If YOU want to feel loved, just read this book.  It's better than ice cream.  It's like a hug made out of paper and ink.  I love it.

10. Patience: The Art of Peaceful Living by Allan Lokos


This book is boils down to one concept. . .you could avoid a lot of heartbreak and suffering if you can just be more patient.  Unfortunately for me, patience is not just gritting your teeth or taking deep breaths.  I thought I had it mastered!  It actually comes from a deeper place, and this brilliant book helps you to get there.  Patience is really more of just a manual of how to be a decent human being.  If you want to make the world a better place, read this book!  The author is a Buddhist and writes his book in a tone that is accessible to all faith traditions.  I gleaned so much knowledge from these pages.  I am hoping it is making me more patient because I need it!

11. Honey for a Child's Heart by Gladys Hunt


This book has two incredible parts.  The first is the "why".  Why do we read to our children, and how can it change their lives and build their character.  The second is thorough and wonderful list of books to read to your children at each phase of their lives, including small descriptions of each book.  I use this book as a guide for gift giving for all of my godchildren, and a guide for library checking-out for my own!  I bought a copy for my mom, just to thank her for nurturing me with books so well as I was growing up. 

12. Miracle at Carville by Betty Martin


Speaking of my mom, this is one of her favorite books.  My mom talked about how powerful this book was for her many times when I was a child, so I was so excited to finally read it for myself when I found a copy at my university library.  It is long out of print, but totally worth exploring your local library to see if they have it.  Betty Martin, who had to change her name in order to avoid bringing shame to her family, was diagnosed with leprosy as a young woman.  She lost her family, her fiance, and her comfortable and happy life as she was forced to go live at Carville, an institution for those with Hansen's Disease.  In other words, a leper colony.  Like any great memoir, it makes you think, it makes you weep, and it leaves you feeling inspired, grateful and hopeful.  I will never forget it.


OK, What books can I add to this list?  I am always looking for something new to love!

Motherhood.

From the time I was a little girl, I knew what I wanted to do when I grew up- get married and be a mom, just like mine!  Actually, first I wanted to be a truck driver.  And then a mom.  You know, just a regular mom who drove her baby with her in the car seat in her semi as she crossed the country, chatting it up on the CB and seeing the sights.  In retrospect that seems pretty unrealistic, but those commercials they aired during my Gilligan's Island reruns after school really persuaded me that trucking was for everyone- even me and my baby.  And my future husband, who would of course ALSO be a truck driver.  I had it all figured out.

So, after dreaming of it my whole life, unsuccessfully trying to convince my baby sister that I was actually her mom, being the #1 babysitter for dozens of families, teaching Sunday school, working at the Y, getting a certificate in education and settling into my career as a teacher, Paul and I were married. (He's not a trucker, but he'll do :) For a few blissful years we enjoyed two incomes, a busy social calendar and few responsibilities outside of mowing the lawn and occasionally cleaning the bathroom.  After we had all that perfected parenthood seemed like the next logical step!  We were over the moon when we found out we were expecting our first child.  I was finally going to be a mom.  It all seemed so right.

When Philip Theodore was born, however, I was TOTALLY not prepared.  When I held him in my arms for the first time, the emotion hit me like one of those semis I had dreamed of driving long ago.  To say I was floored and unnerved by it would be an understatement!   I had expected more of the blissful, generically loving feeling I had been experiencing throughout my pregnancy.  I had visions of gazing at my child's face and feeling love surround me like a warm blanket.  Instead I had my first introduction to what the Mack truck of "mother love" really feels like.  Romantic love seemed like nothing. . .I mean, I really, really, love Paul.  I would probably do anything for him- cut my hair or give him my liver or drink poison Romeo and Juliet style or really just about anything he needed.  But the love I felt for little Phil was something completely different- it was more fiercely protective, more overwhelmingly deep, more moving than anything I had ever experienced.  In fact, I had no idea that Paul was even in the room.  Paul?  Paul who??  I knew in that instant that I would throw myself in front of a bus or kill someone with my bare hands to protect this child. I mean, ME??  I can't even kill a spider!  That's how raw this emotion was. I didn't even know how to process it.  I couldn't eat.  I couldn't sleep.  I could barely look at his sweet angel face without bursting into tears because- hadn't he grown just in the past hour?  Oh, no, he's just growing so FAST!!!  In retrospect, it's pretty darn embarrassing!  Whoever said becoming a mother means letting your heart beat outside of your body really hit the nail on the head.  It was all wrapped up in that cute, soft little package.  My heart.  His body.  And not just his body. . .but that of any other child in the universe.  I lost any ability watch the evening news, because in any tragedy all I can think of is the mothers. . .the ones who can't find their children, the ones who had to watch their children die, the ones who had to leave this earth too soon and won't see their children grow.  Nope, I am tearing up just thinking about it, I had better leave that alone for now.

Now that we have three children, our friends often ask. . .which do you think was harder- 1 to 2?  2 to 3?  Paul and I don't miss a beat when we say 0 to 1.  No contest.  As if the overwhelming love wasn't hard enough to deal with in the hospital, it was much more intense back in our own home.  Everything seemed different- our house looked different and all of the sudden not clean enough or organized enough or good enough for our new baby.  I still couldn't eat. Even having a cat for a pet seemed like too much work, and we were so overwhelmed we had to send poor Bootsy to my parents house for a few weeks.  Being awake at all hours had seemed so fun when we were the ones choosing to be awake back in our party days, but now it just seemed cruel and devastating.  I remember at one point Paul and I looking at each other in desperation and him saying to me, "HOW do people EVER want to do this more than once??"  The transition to parenting for us was more difficult that anyone would have imagined.  I am sure having an extra fussy baby didn't help, but, then again, maybe it's difficult for everyone.

My mom made it look so deceptively easy- nice meals on the table, perfectly done hair and makeup, pretty outfits.  She always wore matching nightgowns and robes, made beautiful dresses for my sister and I for every holiday, and still had enough time to work on my homework with me, take care of her own mom, work part-time AND even sneak in an afternoon nap.  Plus, she never, EVER, ever ever lost her temper with me.  (The only time I ever remember her seeming that angry was when she was teaching me to drive, but most reasonable people get stressed when I am behind the wheel.)  Coming from that background, I had way too high of expectations for myself!  At some point on my mothering journey, my mom 'fessed up and said that the real secret is that NOONE REALLY TELLS YOU HOW HARD IT IS.  

Oh.

I guess they wouldn't.

I mean, who would?

Because, yeah, it's hard.  But it's good.  It's way too good not to put up with the hard.  Actually, too good to even put into words and explain it to someone else.  It's stepping-on-a-lego-in-your-bare-feet painful and sweet-little-boy-fresh-from-the-bath-on-your-lap-reading-goodnight-moon sweet.  It's peeling-stickers-off-the-floor tedious and I-wuv-you-mahmee glorious.  It's messy and fun and hard and effortless and silly and exhausting and uplifting and humbling and amazing all at once.

And maybe I am not as good at it as I thought I would be.  And that's OK, too.  Because if my PERFECT MOM said it wasn't easy, then I must not be a complete failure at it.  Who knows, maybe if I just smile and pick myself up when I fail, someday my kids will look back and think that THEY had the perfect mom, too?  And really, what more does God ask of us than to keep trying our best, keep loving with that perfect mother-love He gave us, and keep moving forward?  

Micah 6:8 “He has showed you, O man, what is good. And what does the LORD require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.” (NIV)

And P.S.  Obviously we decided more than one was going to be just fine.  And the holding your baby for the first time the second time and third time around feels much more like a warm blanket than a Mack truck, so that was good, too. :)