Confession 24: Star Spangled in Louisiana

I attended a teaching conference in New Orleans last week. Obviously, life is rough. At the opening session of the conference, I was surprised to see that a color guard was presenting the American flag and the Star Spangled Banner was going to be sung. I'd never seen this at a conference before, and the cynical girl inside me started to bristle and roll her eyes. But then, I reminded cynical girl that this was a public education conference and not a church service-- a public education conference sponsored by the Southern Regional Education Board at that. So, if they wanted stars and stripes, as ridiculous as it seemed to me, they were perfectly entitled to it.

The woman who was slated to sing the national anthem was a principal in a Texas high school. The music was canned and started slowly. Great, I thought. Not only are we singing the national anthem, but we're doing it at the pace of a funeral dirge. I've always felt that if you're going to sing the national anthem, then it should be done with energy and gusto. However, as the principal sang, I found myself captivated. She had a powerful voice, and although the song was sung slowly, it definitely had gusto. Her tone, her inflection, her sheer power made it a song of triumph born out of great struggle. I understood for the first time in a long time the meaning behind the words. It became a song of perseverance, of faith and hope that out of darkness would come light.

As the anthem came to a close, I thought about the fact that we were standing in the heart of New Orleans, ravished almost two years ago by Hurricane Katrina. Touring the city, there is still so much in disrepair, so much that has not returned, so many who have not returned. I found that this song, sung this way, was a tribute to this city, this region, that has been through so much. Walking through the French Quarter throughout the week, I saw many signs and t-shirts carrying the phrase, "Rebuild New Orleans". There is a pride and a hope in the city that I felt profoundly as the national anthem was sung. It is a pride and hope that I feel deep down about our country, that we can push through the present darkness and come out triumphant into the light of a new day. It may not come for awhile, but I fimly believe we will get there.

I found myself cheering as the anthem came to a close, cheering for the talented singer, cheering for a city which is rising again, and cheering on a country where hope still shines through, no matter how hard it may be to see.

Blessings and Peace,
Sara

Confession 23: Surviving Motherhood

I love my son. Really, I do. He's the light of my life. He brings me joy every day in unexpected ways. He's eager, he's expressive, he's loving and cuddly. He also pushes my buttons in ways no one else has done, except maybe my little sister. He's stubborn, he's into everything, he's temperamental, and he doesn't always sleep a lot. The past few weeks have been challenging for our relationship. We made our big move last week to the small town in southwest Missouri where my husband is the new pastor at the United Methodist Church. I don't start my new teaching job until the fall, so now am home with our son throughout the day. It's something neither of us are accustomed to, and both of us are highly resistant to change.

I've always been, I hate to say, somewhat snobby in my opinion of stay-at-home moms. This past week alone has given me a whole new respect for them. We have moved from the suburbs to the country, and what I wouldn't give some days for a book group meeting at Starbucks! Even a playdate sounds like an extraordinary experience, where before I found it a ridiculous concept. I think my son misses his daycare-- all of the toys, the other kids, the routine he had established. I find myself looking for different excuses to get out of the house, to make contact, however brief, with the world outside. I think my son feels this too. Our best day this past week was when we made the 30 mile trek into Springfield, to Best Buy, to pick up a modem for our router. I don't even know what these things are, let alone what they do, but going to get that modem was the highlight of my son and I's day. We were both in much better moods throughout the afternoon and evening.

I leave this week for a five day trip to New Orleans to a conference for work. Although it will be hard to leave my son (I've never done it before) I think it will be good for both of us. We've become sort of co-dependent, he and I. We're our own little island chain during the day in the sea of newness around us. And, as frustrating as these days with him can be sometimes, I know I'm very blessed to have the opportunity to spend this time with him, and that the days are coming soon when we will get back into the busyness of our routines and I will think again, as I often have at work, "Wouldn't it be nice if I could just stay home?"

Blessings and Peace,
Sara