And one of the passages this morning was Jesus noticing the widow's mites...and I think that is all I have to offer today.

You strengthen me more and more; You enfold me and comfort me. Psalm 71:21

Bless our God, you peoples make the voice of His praise to be heard; Who holds our souls in life, and will not allow our feet to slip. Psalm 66:7

O Lord, you have taught us that without love whatever we do is worth nothing: Send your Holy Spirit and pour into my heart your greatest gift, which is love, the true bond of peace and of all virtue, without which whoever lives is accounted dead before you. Grant this for the sake of your only Son Jesus Christ, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

My friend Facebook reminded me yesterday that seven years ago today I got down to the bottom of both of my TO DO lists for the first time in months, well except for the stack of descriptive essays waiting to be graded.

There is nothing new under the sun. I still have stacks of TKM essays to keep grading and grading because I can’t seem to get a thesis statement out of any of my eighth graders, much less support, support, conclusion. And I long to make really meaningful comments on the Journey Poems because some of the kids wept in class as they read them aloud. But around and around we go. Today is Culture Day so I will be making the classroom arounds of Sweden, Costa Rica and China with my homeroom all day long and I was warned that we don’t even get a bathroom break. But tomorrow, tomorrow I have deep hopes of digging my way to the bottom. And one of my crazy brilliant but totally off-task kiddos yesterday reconstructed all of my google.classrooms that had gotten swallowed up in cyberspace, so that is good. We also inadvertently found some glitch in my glitch-ridden grading program that brought his 59% up to a 91% by just answering five questions out of the textbook. And I let it ride. Grades with comments are due Tuesday morning. I have to write unique comments for each of my students in each subject even if I teach them three times a day. And they have to be unique from the comments that I made just before Christmas break, and I wonder how much unique I have rattling around in my weary brain. Next week I am going to take a deep breath and plunge into the world of Romeo and Juliet once again.  And Newton. Do I have the energy to drape my classroom with rollercoasters made out of foam pipe insulation? Or should we just drop eggs in parachutes off of the multipurpose room? And Civics. I have two and a half months to prepare the kiddos to pass the civics test required of all who want to become United States citizens.

But Everette just woke up for a moment and asked me to snuggle with her just a little bit more, so I left my candlelit table and curled up with her on the floor and she clutched my ear, and all is quiet. And I snuggled in His enfolding and comfort, quietly and at rest.

He is my strength.

And love.

Today dear LORD God, strengthen me with Your love, for without love, all of my works are but a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.

And the Monday night ladies were reading Ann Voskamp who was reminding us that we can’t be filled unless we are empty.

Let me dump out all of me, so that I may be filled with You.

Amen.

To step outside is to be reminded of His love and faithfulness.

Your love, O LORD, for ever will I sing; from age to age my mouth will proclaim your faithfulness. Psalm 89:1

Show me your marvelous lovingkindness, O Savior of those who take refuge at your right hand from those who rise up against them. Keep me as the apple of your eye; hide me under the shadow of your wings. Psalm 17:7-9 

This is pretty much my go-to filler melody during the quiet. The quiet of driving up and down Broadway. The quiet of flipping turns or heading up the steep curve of Sentential Peak. Hanging in the backyard hammock covered with mosquito repellant. Certainly when I head out to wander through the creosote bushes and prickly pears across Country Club. Over and over, the refrain,

Your Love, Oh Lord
Reaches to the heavens
Your faithfulness
Stretches to the skies
Your righteousness
Is like the mighty mountain
Your justice flows like the ocean's tide

I will lift my voice
To worship You my King
And I will find my strength
In the shadow of Your wings

I guess it’s my own heart’s version of Tucson Psalms. Well, except for the part about the ocean. But the heavens and the skies and the mighty mountains bring me back to Him again and again. Even in the early morning darkness when His faithfulness cannot be seen.

And the 1000 gifts list plugs onward:

875.        Mosquito repellent

876.        Such a kind note from John D’Andrea

877.        The attitude of how-can-I-serve-you permeating the staff at Imago Dei

878.        How wisely my co-teacher dealt with cruel vandalism amongst the seventh graders.

879.        Watching another teacher work through foot-long science vocabulary with a refugee student.

880.        One of my very most naughty students rushed up with a stack of crumpled but complete   missing homework assignments and gave me a big hug

881.        The after-a-drenching-rain scent of Tucson as we head out for a new day

882.        My sweet, sweet sister so full of patient grace as we walk through this life together

883.        The enthusiastic love of Juan as he searches for the perfect bicycle for me

884.        My pink and yellow flowing shirt that is full of memories from just about every place I’ve travelled

885.        My momma is back home again

886.        My grumpy math student who actually smiled as I pulled out the new textbook I found

887.        My Monday night book club ladies are so encouraging and kind

888.        The sixth grader who wrapped herself around me yesterday and smiled, “Miss, you are my favorite teacher.”

889.        Did I mention mosquito repellent? Somehow that back door is always left open.

But I am also consciously returning to “Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me” prayer, working it into my heartbeats. Henri Nouwen talks about it:

It is about this prayer that the Russian pilgrim speaks, thereby expressing in his own charming naïve style the profound wisdom of the spiritual fathers of his time. In the expression “Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy upon me,” we find a powerful summary of all prayer. It directs itself to Jesus, the Son of God, who lived, died, and was raised for us; it declares him to be the Christ, the anointed one, the Messiah, the one we have been waiting for; it calls him our Lord, the Lord of our whole being: body, mind, spirit, thought, emotions, and actions; and it professes our deepest relationship to him by a confession of our sinfulness and by a humble plea for his forgiveness, mercy, compassion, love, and tenderness.

More than ever we feel like wandering strangers in a fast-changing world. But we do not want to escape this world. Instead we want to be fully part of it without drowning in its stormy waters. We want to be alert and receptive to all that happens around us without being paralyzed by inner fragmentation. We want to travel with open eyes through this valley of tears without losing contact with the One who calls us to a new land. We want to respond with compassion to all those whom we meet on our way and ask for hospitable place to stay while being solidly rooted in the intimate love of our God. The prayer of the heart shows us one possible way. It is indeed like a murmuring stream that continues underneath the many waves of every day and opens the possibility of living in the world without being of it and reaching out to God from the center of our solitude. Henri Nouwen, Reaching Out

Because His love first reaches out to the heavens.

And His faithfulness stretches to the skies.