New school year about to begin...Isabel in third and Lily in first.

Here's what I wrote to Mrs. Lupiani, Isabel's teacher, in response to her questionnaire about Isabel's learning experiences and style:

Isabel likes school!

My goal for Isabel is that she would continue to excel academically. If Isabel has challenges, they are more social than academic. She tends to find herself in classrooms where there are several kids who act out. (All three years so far.) The teacher must spend a lot of time on discipline, which interferes with teaching and frustrates Isabel to no end. Last year, Isabel was able to find one other quiet, mild-mannered kid, and she basically just stuck with her while most of the other kids acted wild. I'm hoping she will find someone comparable to that friend this year. As of right now, she's very worried about who she will play with at recess!

Isabel (still) loves dogs. She also loves art, swimming, and music. She's a creative sort. She'll make dioramas or homemade comic strips for fun.

We read at bedtime. Isabel is well beyond her years in reading (at least fifth grade level, into sixth). Your challenge and mine is to find appropriate books for her to read. She spent the summer reading Magic Treehouse books, the Just Grace series, the Ivy and Bean series. These are technically right for her grade level (second into third). She shuns the harder, upper-grade-level books that she's supposed to be reading. She LOVES Harry Potter, so Mrs. Bates turned her on to The Book of Elsewhere series, which is a more suitable reading level.

Isabel is not interested in competing for AR points. She reads because she likes to read. It's frustrating for her, because kids with lower AR skill levels get to read easier books and they accumulate points, while she's slugging her way through longer, harder books. So far, the AR reading system has not been helpful for Isabel. The best way to get Isabel to read is to find her books she's interested in reading. That approach is much more challenging for me and the teacher, but that's what works for Isabel.

Isabel loves creative writing. She would be thrilled to have a chance to do more of it. She's not the least bit interested in numbers. Math is always going to be a struggle. (But not too terrible, because as you know she's generally bright!)

Isabel tends to do her work quickly. She often finishes before the other kids. I imagine she could be encouraged to fill that time by going above and beyond what was asked of her?

Last but not least, Isabel is eager to please you!

Seen and unseen

I've just read the first two novels in Hilary Mantel's trilogy about Thomas Cromwell. I never would have guessed that the life and times of a fifteenth century English statesman would enthrall me. But both books, Wolf Hall and Bring Up The Bodies, were the sort of reading material that had to go with me everywhere, on the off chance I might found myself with a string of free minutes to gobble down a few pages. I hated coming to the end of the second one, but I couldn't stop myself.

In this week's issue of The New Yorker, there's a profile on Mantel. I read it first, with relish. Mantel told the interviewer that she no longer believes in God, but that her religious upbringing influenced her life tremendously. "When you're inculcated with religion at such an early age, or when you're receptive to it, as I was, you become preoccupied with the unseen reality," she says. "This other world, the next world, to me in my childhood seemed just as real as the world I was living in. It wasn't that I had a mental picture of it--it was that I never questioned its existence. I used to conduct a lot of imaginary conversations with God. I don't think Jesus was any less real to me than my aunts and uncles; the fact that I happened not to be able to see him was pretty irrelevant to me."

Her words stuck in my craw, because I so want to "become preoccupied with the unseen reality" and for the other world to seem "just as real as the world I'm living in." I've been trying to train my eyes to see that way.

I've been grappling with the idea of the "unseen reality" for years, and especially lately while reading Ann Voskamp's One Thousand Gifts. Voskamp believes in God, but not with no-questions-asked certainty. After her own grappling, she's come to the conclusion that our perception of the world around us--and whether we believe that God is orchestrating all things for good--dictates how much joy we'll get out of life. I'm down with that.

The rub, of course, is the believing. God is invisible and silent, and many of the people who believe in him don't inspire me. In fact, they shake the mustard seed of faith I'm trying to grow. Sometimes I'm rocked by the thought that I so want the unseen world to be real, that I will myself to believe it. Mantel, who no longer believes, confirms that thought. She describes her season of belief as a childhood preoccupation, something she grew out of.

But here's another way of looking at it. The seen world is real, palpable--and hurtling by at great speed. In a few days I'll be 42. Lately I've been having trouble reading small print. I'm not old! But there's no denying I've reached the halfway point. I know I can't count on the seen world. It's like water through my fingers. So I turn back again to Scripture.

So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. (2 Corinthians 4:18)

"The things which are seen are temporal - wealth, pleasure, fame (i.e. the three idols which the people of this world adore) - are all to endure but for a little time. They will all soon vanish away. So it is with pain, and sorrow, and tears. All that we enjoy, and all that we suffer here, will eventually vanish and disappear. The most lingering disease will soon cease; the evils of the deepest poverty, want, and suffering will soon be passed. There is nothing on which the eye can fix, nothing that the heart can desire here, which will not soon fade away; or, if it survives, it is temporary in regard to us. We must soon leave it to others. How foolish then to make these our portion, and to fix our affections supremely on the things of this life? How foolish also to be very deeply affected by the trials of this life, which at the furthest can be endured but a little longer before we shall be forever beyond their reach!" 
--American theologian Albert Barnes (1798-1870)


There is nothing covered, that shall not be revealed; and hid, that shall not be known. (Matthew 10:26)

Orchid

Last week, on our 9th wedding anniversary, Lee brought me an orchid. We were both a little amazed by this flower. See below.

Lately I've been wrestling with my thoughts about God (what else is new). And it occurs to me that God made this intricate and gorgeous flower, and He also made...dirt and mosquitoes and fungus. It all seems so hard to believe.

I'm reading two books. Death by Suburb, by David Goetz, and One Thousand Gifts, by Ann Voskamp. The second book is written in poetic language, which better suits the ineffable quality of our God, who creates flowers like the one above.

In both books, Chapter 5 is about suffering. Goetz suggests that instead of always trying to throw off our cross, we might "see all things as coming from the hand of God, even, or especially, the cross itself." Voskamp goes even further, explaining that darkness--the hard stuff that makes me angry and anxious--actually births new life and even joy. It's a matter of perspective. Do I really trust God? Then it's OK to let things go.

Isabel didn't get into the Family program I was hoping for. (It's an exclusive program where one group of kids stays together from 2nd - 5th grade, go on their own special field trips, and have excellent teachers.) The teacher Isabel DID get was new to second grade and in her final year of decades of teaching. It didn't seem to be a choice placement.

I struggled with it for a while, feeling like Isabel had been cheated. But these authors, especially Voskamp, have changed my thinking. It's a matter of perspective. If God allowed Isabel to be placed in this class, then good will come out of it--even if I don't see it. Trust.

Anything's possible!

Lily was in a musical theater camp this week at BAPA (British Academy of Performing Arts). Forced by me, but girded by the presence of her best friend Marina, Lily ended up having...an OK time. That's according to her. I'd like to think that our $150 gave her a new experience and a self-esteem boost that you can't put a price tag on! Here are some outtakes from her recital on the last day. Lily is the sweet, precious, and most beautiful one. Marina is the cutie in blue who's next to her in the first clip.

Here in East Cobb, the helicopter parents are engaged in a fierce competition, and summer camp is one of its most important events. I abstained, for the most part. No soccer, karate, voice lessons, gymnastics, acrobatics, violin/piano, or anything else--except for swim team and one week of camp. Lily's was this musical theater camp, and in this same week, Isabel attended Cobb County Art Camp. It's a sport in itself getting your child into the art camp, which at $90 is one of the few reasonably priced ones in the area. But I was on it this year--signed her up back in March or whenever it was, at the exact moment parents had to be online for signups. She liked it, anyway. Here's a photo of her and Ryan D in the masks they made for the "comedy arts" portion...

Mr. Bear

I'm the older sibling. I've never had to wait on the sidelines until it was my turn to get in the game. So I have special sympathy for my Lilybug, who has had to watch big sister Isabel "host" a classroom stuffed animal three times now.


On Friday, Lily and Isabel were on a playdate, and Isabel called to say they'd gotten there safely. In the background, I heard Lily call out to her. "Tell Mommy I got Mr. Bear!" You'd think he was made of solid gold.


So...Lily got Mr. Bear for the weekend. Here's our scrapbook of our time together...

God and Politics

I heard this piece on NPR this morning. It's titled: "Christians debate: Was Jesus For Small Government?"  

Fascinating stuff. As a Christian, I think I need to have an opinion on this. As usual, I'm leaning left.

Here's the premise:

Wisconsin Republican Rep. Paul Ryan, who chairs the House Budget Committee...told Christian Broadcasting Network last week that it was his Catholic faith that helped shape the budget plan. In his view, the Catholic principle of subsidiarity suggests the government should have little role in helping the poor...Through our civic organizations, through our churches, through our charities — through all of our different groups where we interact with people as a community — that's how we advance the common good," Ryan said.

Here's the counterpunch:

But Stephen Schneck, a political scientist at Catholic University, says he thinks Ryan is "completely missing the boat and not understanding the real heart, the real core, of Catholic social teaching." Schneck says Catholicism sees everyone as part of a mystical body, serving one another. True, the New Testament does not specifically speak to the government's role. "But charities and individuals and churches can't do it all," Schneck says. "When charities are already stretched to their limit, Catholic social teaching expects the state to step up and to fill that gap."

Here's the premise:

Richard Land at the Southern Baptist Convention says the whole of Scripture says that people are sinful and selfish and, therefore, "people aren't going to work very hard and very productively unless they get to keep a substantial portion of that which they make for them and for their families."

And the counterpunch:

Schneck points out that there are more biblical verses about feeding the hungry and taking care of the least fortunate. Schneck agrees that the Bible encourages initiative and hard work. But he says theologians through the ages have said there must be a balance.

Proof

I know I'm not impartial. But normally, when you take a picture of Isabel's sweet face, here's what happens: Millions of tiny pixels organize themselves into a work of art. It takes serious skill to make my cutie-pie look anything less than adorable in a picture. And yet the school photographer has managed it.

Oh yes, it's proof. Proof that no one survives Picture Day, not even angels. Now see below, a recent photo that I casually snapped outside Roswell's Bulloch Hall. Guess which one I'll be framing?

In other news...


On the drive home from swim lessons today, we're listening to They Might Be Giants' Here Comes Science. The song is "Photosynthesis."


Lily: What's photosynthesis?
Isabel: Come on, you know what photosynthesis is.
Lily: No I don't.
Isabel (appalled and disgusted): They haven't taught you about plants yet?


I know what she's thinking. What kind of ghetto PreK is Mom sending her to? And now the wheels of Isabel's mind are turning. How do I get the number for DYFS? Surely this qualifies as parental neglect?