Through My Eyes

Another Summer Bites the Dust

Sizzling days and balmy nights,
Darkened shades, and lowered lights
Black-eyed Susans’ smiling face,
Pink Petunias, Queen Anne’s Lace.

flowers2

Panting dogs, watch June bugs flying
Mothers hot, and children crying.
Vacation time, but best of all,
Just one more month, and then it’s Fall!

poem by Jan Stribley


I have discovered that I hold my breath throughout the entire school year.

No wonder I’m hard to get along with; I’m oxygen deprived.

There’s homework. There are homework battles. There are bed-time issues. There’s me worrying about whether the boys are getting enough sleep (or whether they’re falling asleep in class).

There are friend issues. Who are they hanging around with? Who are they eating lunch with? Who is influencing them and are they making the right decisions? Do they feel peer pressure? Is anyone picking on them?

Are they comfortable in their own skin? Are they secure people? Do they feel awkward with their sexuality? What sorts of girls attract their attention? (And they ARE attracted to girls, right??)

Are we asking the right questions about their future? Are the classes they’re taking the right path to a future career? College is looming just over the horizon. I can see the signs, but at this point, they are still various colors of opportunity — nothing is terribly clear.

And then suddenly ………

Ahhhhhhhh ……….

Summer rolls around … I can B.R.E.A.T.H.E again. I can let all of those worries go and just …. peacefully co-exist with my teenage sons. There are no outside pressures. There is no homework to stress over. We don’t have to worry (overly) much about futures.

We can sleep late and set our own agendas. We don’t have to worry about being at a certain place at a certain time. We can eat ice cream, watch a movie, or simply veg out with absolutely nothing more pressing to do than to idly scratch an itch or two.

We can be lazy and not worry about unpleasant consequences.

I like lazy.

The world simply has more color. Everything smells better. Sounds are closer and more intimate. And everything tastes fresh and delicious.

Time slows down and memories waver and form like blurry images under water. There are no pressure points, there are only points to slowly pluck from passing activities.

I’m relaxed. Everyone around me is relaxed. I’m slow to anger and quick to laugh. Life is good. Life is peaceful.

And then summer ends.

And we find ourselves right back at life’s door, our hands balled into fists and poised just inches from the wood, ready to knock and ask permission to enter the next chapter of our lives.

We are braced for the future. We will handle the future.

But sometimes, I wish no one would open that door.

Goodbye Summer.

We miss you already.

More from Write From Karen

Life

It’s Time to Start Freshman Year

I was in a room full of people, but I never felt more alone.

orientation We attended Jazz’s freshman orientation last week.

It was just me and Jazz. Kevin had band practice so couldn’t go.

Dude simply curled his lip when I asked him if he wanted to tag along. He’s an upper-classman now. He’d rather have his hair cut than hang out with a freshman. (And that, my friends, is saying A LOT).

Jazz didn’t WANT to go.

I made him. It’s a rite of passage. He’ll never be a freshman again (let’s hope, anyway). This would be his last orientation. It was a milestone in his life; I didn’t want him to miss it.

We should have skipped it.

Jazz didn’t want to go because he’d already sat through Dude’s orientation and then he had to sit through the spiel yet again for some band function, so to say we knew what was coming … well, would be to say we knew what was coming.

We knew it would be in the gym. (check)

We knew there would be a PowerPoint presentation. (there was)

We knew it would be a boring PowerPoint presentation. (it was)

We knew it would be incredibly hot (Man, was it ever. My water-proof mascara actually melted off my lashes and plopped onto my light-colored shirt. I was quite annoyed).

We knew there would be a lot of people. (A lot of people, yes. But jammed packed? No.)

We knew that the A+ coordinator would take the longest amount of time and would likely lose most of the audience with her confusing explanations and rules. (She did. And I STILL don’t fully understand how that program works.)

However, what I didn’t know, or anticipate, was the fact that Jazz wouldn’t want anything to do with me.

Ouch.

I tried not to let it hurt my feelings. After all, we’ve reached that part of the road where it’s really uncool to sit with mom. I get it. I suppose I should embrace the fact that he’s ready to be independent of me.

But I’d be lying if I didn’t say that it hurt, just a smidgen, when I tried to get him to sit next to me and he completely ignored me to go sit with his friends.

*sigh*

So. There I sat. Alone and lonely. All by my lonesome. Trying to act interested and yet trying not to appear too world weary in front of the first-time freshman parents.

And trying not to be bored out of my cotton-picking mind.

Instead of listening, I spent my time observing the various people around me, without making it look like, you know, I was staring at them and being all creepy stalker-ish.

No easy feat, let me tell ya.

I observed several emotions: anticipation, eagerness, boredom, apprehension, excitement, confusion, fear, sadness, nostalgia, pride … etc., really, the list goes on. I remember feeling all of those things whenever Dude started high school.

But I didn’t feel any of those things this go-around.

I just felt annoyance.

I wanted the dang thing to be over with. I was ready to move on and get his schedule. I was anxious to find his rooms. I wanted to step back into my son’s needed arena and feel important in his life once again.

I was also annoyed with Kevin.

He could have skipped practice. And to be fair to the man, he was fully prepared to skip it. But Jazz insisted that it was okay. That it was no big deal. That he didn’t really care if he was there or not.

But was it? A big deal, I mean. I don’t want to deliberately down play these milestones in Jazz’s life just because we’ve been through them already with Dude. These milestones were old news to us, but they were new and exciting to Jazz.

I just don’t want Jazz to grow up and look back on this period in his life and regret the fact that Kevin and I were so blasé about the big stuff in his life.

He says he doesn’t care now? But what will he tell his therapist years from now? (I’m kidding … I hope).

So, I was a bit annoyed that Kevin wasn’t there. I wasn’t annoyed that he missed the introductions and the RAH RAH GO FRESHMEN speech, but that he was going to miss the awkward trying to find classes thing. There’s always a memory or two to be had from that experience and this time around was no exception.

Where was I …

Oh yeah. Orientation was over and like cattle, we shuffled our way to the various tables they had set up in the hallways. We passed the PTSA table, the table jammed packed with t-shirts that read “Fear the Poo” and “What happens at (name of school) stays at (name of school)”. We all squeezed into the cafeteria and upon our exit, encountered all of the club tables. Once we cleared the clubs, we came across the sports’ tables (yawn) until we finally pooled into the administration portion of the building where they had about ten tables crammed into about a 12 x 12 space.

Aargh! It was already hot in the building. And I was feeling faint from people’s body odor to begin with, it only magnified when I reached this section.

To top it off, the lines curled into each other. So, the schedule line literally ran THROUGH the locker line. So, people were beyond confused. And I got stuck behind a dude who was as big as I was and periodically stepped on my toes (accidentally — or was it??) so by the time we finally reached the woman handing out schedules, my entire foot was dead.

They had divided the schedules up into two sections:

A – L section was this table.

M – Z section was that table.

And there was only ONE person manning each table.

Aargh! Do you KNOW how long that took?? When there were about 400 students waiting to pick up their schedules? I’d say about 30 minutes, if I had been keeping track of the time and not keeping my eye on the toe-stomping guy in front of me.

Finally, FINALLY, we reached the woman and Jazz asked for his schedule.

And the woman looked through her stack of papers and couldn’t find it.

I went postal and starting thrashing about like a wild, insane monkey and Jazz died of embarrassment and disowned me right there and then.

Okay, not really. I was just seeing if you were paying attention.

The woman’s lips curled into a feral snarl as she handed over his schedule and then she roughly pushed us out of the way and snapped at us like a rabid dog. I was quite alarmed and not just a bit scared of her wicked, and very sharp-looking teeth. (I think there was spittle involved, but I can’t be sure. Everything happened so fast).

Okay, not really. But Jazz DID finally get his schedule and we promptly moved out of the chaos to make room for the people behind us.

And in all seriousness, THAT was one of the biggest reasons the place was like a human sardine can: kids and parents got their schedules and then just stood, in the middle of the freaking room, and effectively blocked an already convoluted mess. I really did feel like screaming at them to move their butts.

Honestly, some people are so clueless.

Jazz and I then walked around the school to locate his classes. He had one class upstairs, in the new science wing, but the powers that be had the upper level blocked off so we didn’t find his first class, and his study hall room was a bit of a challenge to locate (unlike the other rooms that had their numbers prominently displayed on nice plaques outside their door, his study hall room had the room number etched into the wood above the door, in ball point ink. WTH?). But other than that, no problem. We were good to go.

We didn’t stick around long enough to get a locker.

1. Because we didn’t feel like navigating the insane crowd again.

2. The school requires that you have your locker mate PRESENT whenever you sign up for a locker. And considering Dude and Jazz were planning on sharing a locker and there was no way in Hades you would catch Dude at a freshman event, I knew there would be trouble trying to get one, so we didn’t even try.

*mumblemumble-stupid rule-mumblemumble*

So, Dude and I went back to the school the next day and they gave him a locker to share with Jazz. WHY they couldn’t do that the previous day is beyond my feeble comprehension. I’m sure there’s a reason for it …. forget it. It’s a stupid rule, no matter how you look at it.

So, Jazz is now officially ready to begin his freshman year in high school. I can’t believe we’re reached this point. I’ve been laughingly referring to the “day I have both boys in high school” for years and *POOF*, suddenly, here we are.

School begins next Tuesday. So in the meantime, I still have one full week with my boys.

And I will smother them with so much love and attention they will be begging to go back to school.

Heh

Life

Someone Should Pay Me to Be A Driving Instructor

So, Karen. How’s the whole teaching your 16-year old son how to drive thing coming along?

Well I’ll tell ya …..

We’re driving, but not as much as I’d like to. Every time I mention going out to drive, Dude makes a sound somewhere between the Argh/Blah/Gah sound. In fact, it’s become a family joke.

“Hey Kevin, want a cookie?”

“Argh/Blah/Gah”

“Hey Jazz, want a Root Beer?”

“Argh/Blah/Gah”

“Hey mom. Feel like going for ice cream?”

“Argh/Blah/Gah”

“Hey Dude. Let’s go driving for a bit.”

“Argh/Blah/Gah”

Did I mention that I get his patented drop-dead look, too? No? The kid has a LETHAL death stare. Seriously. I have burn marks to prove it.

I have to laugh at this kid because if I don’t laugh? I’ll strangle him. What kind of 16-year boy doesn’t WANT to drive? What sort of 16-year old boy doesn’t WANT to be independent from his over-bearing, sometimes b*tchy mother??

My boy, apparently. *sigh*

I don’t get this kid. Every other boy I have EVER known (well, mostly) couldn’t wait to get his grubby hands on a driver’s license. Or better yet, have his OWN set of wheels to drive around in. (Well, technically, the car isn’t HIS yet, he still needs to pay us for half of it. But you know what I mean).

He’s got cousins that are younger than him driving. He’s got another cousin of his that went on a cross-country trip with one of his buddies. He’s got a friend who is not only driving his THIRD car (long story), he’s ordering body parts from the Internet and rebuilding a heap of junk into a really cool car. This same friend also got a job at Jiffy Lube and is now signed up to do an internship, through school, at a mechanic’s garage because he’s thinking of doing that for a career. (Cha-ching! Do you know how much mechanics get paid?! Smart kid).

I have an odd son.

In fact, I’m sort of THANKFUL that he’s not that into driving right now. After all, that’s one less headache I have to deal with at the moment.

But that’s okay. I’ll take him anyway. Cause I love him – oddities and all. I can’t expect him to be like everyone else. He’ll fall into his own in his own sweet time. I try not to compare him to his peers, but it’s hard not to, I suppose. I guess I can’t really relate to his reluctance to be independent because even though I wasn’t really interested in driving until I was about 17, once I got my car, all hell broke loose. Just ask my parents. 🙂

But the freedom bug? Will bite soon. Very, very soon. I just have a feeling. I shouldn’t rush things. It’ll happen and then I’ll be all, “WHY was I in such a hurry to get him behind the wheel of a car again??”

The kid is doing well. He’s a natural born driver. Heck, he’s a better driver than I am. (And I’m pretty good, thank you very much. In fact, if Danica Patrick wasn’t already driving in the Indy races, I’d totally be THE first woman, or one of the first, to drive in the racing circuit.)

That’s how GOOD I am. *humpf*

But Dude? Well, he just might be a better driver than me.

At least, he’s getting there. Now, I’m not saying we didn’t have our rough patches. For instance, did I tell you about the clueless tourist who shoved us out of our lane because he got confused and suddenly forgot he wasn’t the only driver on the road?

studentdriving2 We were coming home from a lunch date with Kevin. The kid drove me and him to Kevin’s work and with Kevin squished into the back seat, he then drove us both to a Chinese restaurant for lunch.

(It was a great lunch, by the way. It was weird not having Jazz with us [he was at band camp], but really nice to have some one-on-one time with just Dude).

He drove like a pro. Kevin later told me that he was a little nervous about his turning, but honestly? I think his turning is coming along nicely. He’s been working on making his turns smooth so he doesn’t give his passengers whiplash from the jerky movements. (Unlike someone else I know *cough Kevin cough*)

He dropped Kevin back off at work and we were on our way home. There is a confusing section of road that branches off into the on ramp for a stretch of highway; it’s confusing to ME, and I’m a local. So, yeah, I can totally see how someone would not know what to do with that bit of road. (Why they made it like that is beyond my comprehension).

We were in the far inside lane because I’ve seen enough drivers get confused at this intersection and make some incredibly stupid decisions that I was hoping we would avoid dealing with anything like that.

Nope. It happened.

The driver of a large 4×4 pickup truck got into the wrong lane. I’m not sure where he thought he was going, but he tried to turn where he wasn’t supposed to and suddenly swerved into our lane. He never looked, he didn’t even slow down.

Jerk.

I took a breath and went into survival mode. (I don’t panic in emergency situations like that – I tend to get really focused and react quickly). I reached over to press Dude’s horn at the guy, to

A. let him know we were there and please don’t run us over, thank you very much.

B. Because I was annoyed at the clueless guy and he deserved a good, hard honk.

But, nothing happened. The horn sputtered and squawked, sort of like an injured whale, and was completely ineffective.

Luckily, Dude had been watching the guy and had anticipated the mistake. He smoothly changed lanes and narrowly missed side-swiping the guy.

Suddenly, I was grateful for all of my “anticipate the drivers’ moves around you and always have a plan B” speeches. We, HE, avoided an accident. I was very proud of him.

But other than that little snafu, Dude really has been doing a good job.

(Kevin replaced his horn over the weekend. Apparently, the thing got some water in it and it just sort of died).

I’ve been pretty relaxed throughout this whole process, if you want the truth. I think I’ve been okay with this driving thing because we bought him a used car to practice in. A car, that if he happened to put a dent into it, I wouldn’t totally lose my cool over. And we did that because I was afraid I’d be too nervous and uptight with him driving my car (which is only a few years old), and totally ruin any chance for him to develop any sort of driving confidence. I can totally understand why some parents would feel uncomfortable and nervous allowing their kids to learn how to drive in their primary car.

It’s nerve wracking, I know. But speaking as a mother of a driving teen? Just take it slow. Start in a parking lot. Then graduate to side streets. Then move to busier streets. Then drive in the rain. Then drive a bit at night. And lastly, take them on the highway.

Whatever you do, don’t take them out on the highway FIRST. You’ll have a heart attack.

Speaking of night driving, we need to do more of that. I think I’ve only taken him out once at night. Perspectives change at night, so it’s important for him to get some practice on that.

Kevin took him out over the weekend to practice parallel parking. But first, he pulled up some Youtube videos on how to parallel park on the kitchen computer and we watched them over lunch.

Hey, don’t laugh, they helped. A lot.

Kevin took him to an empty parking lot. He set up a microphone stand and a music stand to mark the points and then allowed Dude to start practicing. In fact, he taped his first attempt.

As you can see, he NAILED it, the first time. Yes, we’ll work on his spacing later.

I think Kevin is planning on taking him to a quiet street next weekend so they can actually practice between two cars. *gulp*

We don’t talk to Dude while we’re driving. We simply give him instructions on where to turn, etc. The radio is off and I don’t even answer my cell phone when it rings — we don’t want the kid to lose concentration. We’d like him to get comfortable with the mechanics of driving first before introducing any sort of distractions into the equation.

I realize that time is coming. I just hope that when it comes, he’s a good enough driver that his gross motor skills outweigh his sensory perception skills.

studentdriving

Since Dude is under 18, he’s required to have 40 hours of driving and six months from his permit date to try for his license. His six months will be over at the end of September, and though he’s getting close to 40 hours, we’re not quite there yet.

So, he should be ready to try for his license when it’s time, provided he FEELS ready. We’ll see how it goes.

I should totally get paid to be a driving instructor.

VideoPlay

Video: My Blogging Platform Experiences

I’m participating in the Say it Face to Face web conversation. In essence, someone asks a question and we respond to those questions via video.

The below video is my response to the question: “What blogging platform do you use?”

(Should have mentioned in video that there are NO technical issues with a wordpress.com blog. WordPress performs all upgrades automatically and I never have to worry about receiving an email from my web host again. In addition, my self-hosted blog was offline a lot — since moving to wordpress.com, my blog has a 99.9% uptime. (I think it’s been down once in the year and a half that I’ve been here. And that was only for about fifteen minutes!)

Your turn: What blogging platforms have you used? Which is your favorite and why?

Abundant Life

Teaching: The Day Christ Comes Back To Get Us

Every Sunday I provide videos and valuable links to the Truth or Tradition teachings. We’ve been following the Truth or Tradition teachings for many years now and they have truly blessed our family. We have found peace and happiness through our beliefs and we walk confidently for God. My hope, by passing on this information to you, is that what you find here, or on the Truth or Tradition website, will guide you to a better, more blessed and abundant life.

If you would like to read my views on religion and how we got started with the ministry, you can read this.

Let’s get started:

From this article:

I made Jesus Christ my Lord and Savior when I was a sophomore in high school. My uncle, who shared the Word with me, gave me my first Bible, the New Believer’s Bible New Testament (New Living Translation). I loved that Bible! It was so easy to read (partly because it was basically one step up from a paraphrased Bible) and it had helpful commentary.

As a new Christian, I was very excited because I was reading the Bible and understanding it well, and my enthusiasm was through the roof. I remember one occasion where I was invited to a college football game by another uncle and when he picked me up he noticed I had my new Bible. On any other day I would have thoroughly enjoyed watching the game, but instead (much to my uncle’s annoyance) I read my Bible on and off during the entire game. I just couldn’t get enough.

All was well with my new Bible until the day I read the commentary on this section of Scripture:

2 Corinthians 5:6-10
(6) Therefore we are always confident and know that as long as we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord.
(7) We live by faith, not by sight.
(8) We are confident, I say, and would prefer to be away from the body and at home with the Lord.
(9) So we make it our goal to please him, whether we are at home in the body or away from it.
(10) For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, that each one may receive what is due him for the things done while in the body, whether good or bad.

The commentary was titled “When Does a Christian Enter Heaven?” It reads:

“Some people teach that when we die we go into a state of suspended animation. Then later we are called into the presence of God. But this passage clearly explains that when a believer dies, he or she will go directly to heaven to ‘be at home with the Lord’…

The moment you take your last breath on earth, you will take your first breath in heaven. So don’t be afraid of death. Instead, enjoy your life in Christ on earth, and spend the rest of your time here introducing others to the one with whom you will spend eternity.” [1]

I loved reading about heaven and the hope of one day living forever with God Himself, and I was very pleased to learn that upon my death, there wouldn’t be a long waiting period; I would immediately be with God in heaven. Praise God!

But then I started thinking. If Christians are “aliens” in this world (1 Pet. 2:11), if the world is under the control of the Devil (1 John 5:19), if Christians are going to be persecuted (2 Tim. 3:12), and if we are awaiting God to “call us home” to be with Him at the moment we die, why not run home? [2]

Suicide started to sound like a quick ticket home, as it seemed the sooner I got to be with God, the better. I never considered actually taking my own life, because I knew in my heart of hearts that death was not good. I had been to a few funerals, seen the tears, felt the pain, and knew there was nothing “good” about death. To my horror, I have since learned that more than a few sincere Christians have killed themselves because they thought they would go to heaven to be with God, Jesus, and their departed loved ones. Some have even killed others so they too could go. What that must do to God’s heart is hard to imagine. Amidst my theological enigma, I went to the Bible and studied the topic of death and its aftermath. First, I found it says that death is an “enemy” (1 Cor. 15:26). How could it be an enemy if it took me “home” to be with God? Then I saw that John 3:13 says that “No man has ascended into heaven… (ESV) [3].” And Acts 2:34 tells us that is even true of David, who was a man after God’s own heart.

Among other Scriptures clearly stating that after death one is not conscious, I came across this rather shocking (at the time) verse:

Psalm 30:9
“What gain is there in my destruction, in my going down into the pit? Will the dust praise you? Will it proclaim your faithfulness?

I saw that, as per Genesis 3:19, man’s body is basically “dust,” and after death each man returns to dust. It is not at death that one goes to be with the Lord, but when the Lord comes back for us. The following verses tell us exactly that:

John 14:2 and 3
(2) In my Father’s house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you.
(3) And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am.

When do we go to be with the Lord? When he comes back. Notice that he did not say “when you die, we will meet in Heaven.” No, the Lord Jesus Christ has promised to come back and take us to be with him where he is (see 1 Thess. 4:13-18).

Scripture figuratively refers to death as “sleep.” Where there is no consciousness, there is no awareness of the passing of time. Thus, for each Christian who dies, that glorious day of Christ’s appearing will be his next waking moment. Hallelujah!

You can find the original article here.

If you have any questions, or would like to learn more about God’s wonderful message, please visit the Truth or Tradition website. You can also keep track of the ministry through their Facebook page, their YouTube Channel, or follow them on Twitter.

You can read more about this subject here:

Is There Death After Life?

Free Online Seminar: Death & Resurrection to Life

Thanks for reading.

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